30237V 


"  Well,  Li'les'  Kid,  mebbe  'tis  one  o  dem  dreams.    Gee  !  " 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

AND  HOW  THE  WHITE 

ROSE  OF  LOVE  BLOOMED 

AND  FLOURISHED 

THERE 

BY 

WINIFRED  RICH 

The  strength  of  the  strong  is  Love, 
The  righting  of  wrong  is  Love; 
The  good  that  we  give  is  Love, 
The  Life  that  we  live  is  Love.    ,  > ,  ; 

y.'t'nejy  Gtrf^-ne  Fosteir,  ^   \      " 


PAUL  ELDER  CT  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS- --SAN  FRANCISCO 


The  illustrations  are  reproductions  from 

studies  in  colored  plaster  bas-reliefs  by 

Elizabeth  Ferrea, 


Copyright,  1911 

by  Paul  Elder  and  Company 

San  Francisco 


TO 

MY  FRIEND 
ELLEN  FEARN  CRANE 

SUNDAY 

SEPTEMBER  13 

1908 


INTRODUCTION 

Can  a  lad  of  ten  grow  up  in  one  of  our  modern  cities  and  be 
ignorant  of  the  meaning  of  the  word  "  love"  ? 

In  my  own  kindergarten  the  majority  of  little  ones  had  not  the 
word  in  their  vocabulary,  and  these  children  were  many  degrees 
removed  from  the  tenement  class.  In  our  California  playgrounds 
the  word  is  seldom  used  among  the  children.  Ask  the  simple 
question,  "Do  you  love  sister  or  mother?"  and  the  answer  is 
a  blank  stare.  Use  the  word  "like"  and  a  ready  "Sure"  is  the 
response. 

But  in  the  tenements  of  our  cities  this  problem  is  not  one  to 
cause  wonder.  A  brief  word-picture  will  be  sufficient  for  the 
reader  more  readily  to  understand  Tony's  ignorance  as  well  as 
the  attitude  of  Maggie  and  Mrs.  Murphy.  The  average  tenements 
are  in  a  locality  densely  populated  and  badly  congested.  The 
types  of  faces  one  meets  in  the  many  alleys  represent  the  various 
stages  of  starvation  and  spent  energies.  The  women  seem  to 
have  lost  all  hold  on  their  womanhood,  and  the  little  ones  are 
prematurely  old  in  experience  and  vice. 

We  will  go  into  a  home.  It  is  a  basement  room,  damp,  dark 
and  foul.  A  family  of  seven  or  more  occupy  this  shelter.  The 
children  are  unkempt  and  pitifully  hungry ;  the  father  is  in  the 
penitentiary,  and  the  mother  in  the  factory.  Imagine  the  weary, 


[v] 


INTRODUCTION 

work-stunned  mother  coming  home  to  feed  her  brood  at  night, 
after  twelve  hours  of  steady  labor  and  only  sixty  cents  to  show 
for  her  toil.  Is  it  possible  for  her  to  give  any  expression  to  her 
mother-love,  if  any  there  may  be  ?  Can  you  conceive  of  love  on 
the  lips  of  this  family? 

We  can  go  into  a  better  home.  It  may  be  on  the  first  or  top 
floor  of  a  tenement,  according  to  the  wages  of  the  parents.  Here 
we  find  in  two  rooms  a  family  of  ten.  The  father,  a  foreigner, 
has  come  to  America  to  obtain  wealth.  He  may  receive  a  dollar 
a  day,  it  may  be  more,  but  at  the  merciless  expense  of  his  man 
hood  ;  for  as  the  mills  of  men  grind  out  the  progress  of  the  world, 
they  also  grind  away  the  divinity  and  humanity  of  a  man's  being. 
He  is  a  mere  cog  in  a  wheel.  Once  his  ideals  are  gone,  drink 
becomes  his  refuge,  and  the  man,  who  ten  or  fifteen  years  ago 
stepped  hopefully  upon  America's  soil,  now  becomes  a  brain- 
stunned,  labor-worn,  drunken  beast.  The  mother  goes  into  the 
factory  and  for  twelve  hours  is  deprived  of  her  privileges  as  a 
mother  in  order  that  she  also  may  become  a  cog  in  the  wheel 
that  grinds  out  the  hopes  of  the  human  race.  The  little  ones  in 
crease  and  they  in  turn  go  out  upon  the  street,  all  for  the  dollar 
and  the  lust  of  gain.  Can  a  boy  or  girl  breathe  in  love  from  the 
streets  ?  Can  the  over-worked,  intoxicated  father  exemplify  the 
father-love?  Can  the  mother,  broken  and  crushed,  find  time  at 
night  to  caress  her  children?  Just  picture  a  home-coming  from 
these  parents  and  ask  where  the  word  "love**  would  find  its  place. 

It  is  difficult  for  us,  shielded  as  we  are  by  environment,  to 
understand  this  problem ;  but  when  we  take  into  consideration 
that  a  child  gains  his  knowledge  of  love  from  the  home  and 
from  the  parents,  we  can  readily  comprehend  the  situation. 


[vi] 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

INTRODUCTION, vii 

I.  THE  STORY 1 

II.  "WOT  IS  LOVE?" 15 

III.  THE  WHITE  ROSE 26 

IV.  THE  SERMON  OF  THE  ROSE     ....  36 
V.  "DELI'LES'KID" 45 

VI.  A  BROTHER 48 

VII.  MR.  DORRING'S  MESSAGE 57 

VIII.  THE  FIRE 60 

IX.  THE  FULL  WHITE  ROOM  .  66 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Facing 

"Well,  Li'les*  Kid,  mebbe  'tis  one  o*  dem  dreams.  Gee  I"  Title 
From  the  open  windows  came  the  busy  chatter  of  the  chil 
dren,  and  a  soft  low  voice 2 

"Do  you  like  your  little  sister?"  "Betcher  life  I  do," was 

the  prompt  response 18 

Silently,  one  by  one,  they  stared  at  the  white  blossom  .     .     34 
"  An'  she  wrote  dis,  too.  L-o-v-e,  dat  *s  love.    God  is  love. 

Dat's  wot  He  is,  see?" 40 

Pointing  to  the  pidture,  he  whispered :  "  Say,  yer  jes  looks 

like  Her-an'deLi'les'Kid  like  Him" 46 

Danny  Mulligan,  with  true  epicurean  joy,  was  endeavoring 
to  lick  a  liberal  supply  of  molasses  from  his  freckled 

face  by  means  of  a  very  nimble  tongue 48 

The  teacher's  face  was  wet  with  tears  as  she  placed  the 

baby  in  Tony's  arms 58 

Gently  he  dropped  the  baby  into  the  barrel  and  was  gone     62 
In  her  outstretched  hand  she  held  —  a  white  rose      ,     .     .     68 


[vii] 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  STORY 

TONY  glood  on  the  pavement  glaring  at  a  sign 
which  hung  across  the  sidewalk  from  a  doorway 
of  the  brick  building.   That  the  word  thereon 
gtood  for  "Kindergarten"  he  well  knew,  though 
to  him  the  letters  were  as  meaningless  as  Greek. 
In  the  bitterness  of  his  heart  he  had  wandered  far  from  his 
usual  haunts.   To  him  the  world  was  but  a  dreary  court, 
where  every  man  lived  a  law  unto  himself  and  for  himself. 
From  the  open  windows  came  the  busy  chatter  of  the 
children,  and  a  soft,  low  voice,  which  caused  the  small 
listener  to  open  his  eyes  very  wide  indeed. 

The  curtains  blew  apart,  giving  him  a  glimpse  of  a  tall 
figure  bending  over  a  wee  brown  head. 

Tony  glanced  furtively  up  and  down  the  narrow  Street. 
No  one  was  in  sight ;  even  Mike  Casey's  saloon  was  minus 
the  usual  hangers-on. 

Through  the  open  gate  at  one  side  of  the  building  he 

[i] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

perceived  a  narrow  alley.  Into  this,  with  the  caution  of  the 
street  gamin,  he  stole,  and  as  stealthily  closed  the  gate  be 
hind  him.  As  he  had  anticipated,  the  open  window  was 
just  low  enough  to  be  reached  by  the  aid  of  a  box. 

"Gee!"  he  excitedly  whispered,  "dat's  de  dope,  sure." 

Silently  down  the  board  walk  he  flew  till  he  reached  the 
playground.  There  he  paused  for  a  breathless  moment  to 
stare  uncomprehendingly  at  the  swings  and  sand-boxes. 
His  restless  eyes  discovered  a  small  box  in  a  corner.  This 
he  seized  and  bore  to  the  window. 

Balancing  himself  on  his  bare  toes  and  holding  tightly 
to  the  window-ledge,  he  could  gain,  by  standing  upon  this 
rather  insecure  pedestal,  a  very  good  view  of  the  room  and 
what  he  craved  even  more — the  teacher  who  spoke  with 
the  soft  voice. 

The  child's  eyes  grew  round  as  he  stared  incredulously 
at  the  immaculate  scene  before  him. 

Wonderful  pictures  hung  upon  the  white  walls;  flowers 
and  delicate  ferns  grew  in  profusion  in  the  windows; 
everything  was  spotless,  and  the  room  breathed  rest  and 
happiness. 

"  Gee ! "  exclaimed  the  awestruck  watcher. 

His  eyes  fell  upon  the  circle  of  little  ones,  some  of  whom, 
though  they  were  far  above  him  in  the  social  world,  he 
knew. 

There  were  Elsa  and  Otto  Gruenberger;  they  represented 

[2] 


From  the  open  windows  came  the  busy  chatter  of  the 
children,  and  a  soft,  low  voice. 


THE  STORY 

the  greatest  aristocracy  possible.  For  did  not  their  father 
own  a  delicatessen  shop  where  one  could  buy  deledlable 
dainties  such  as  bologna,  sauerkraut,  and  buns  with  raisins 
in  them? 

Even  Danny  Mulligan  was  there.  His  father  owned  the 
honored  distinction  of  being  policeman  on  a  wonderful 
beat  where  ladies  lived  in  palaces,  and  the  children  ate 
pie  and  candy-sticks  three  times  a  day. 

Tony  smiled  absently  at  Danny,  whose  kindness  in  per 
mitting  him  to  stroke  his  father's  official  club  had  been  an 
honor  not  soon  to  be  forgotten. 

However,  in  another  moment  all  these  glories  vanished, 
for  he  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  teacher  as  she  sat  in 
the  circle  with  the  children.  Her  voice,  which  had  at 
tracted  Tony  from  the  first,  now  held  him  spellbound. 

"Well,  children,  how  many  bright  faces  I  see  to-day! 
And  are  we  ready  for  the  glory?" 

At  once  a  distinct  hum  and  an  air  of  eager  expectancy 
pervaded  the  room.  Tony  caught  the  infection  and  leaned 
eagerly  forward,  to  the  peril  of  his  position. 

"  Then,  we  must  sit  very  still  and  listen  very  carefully. 
Otto,  your  feet  would  look  better  on  the  floor.  Yes,  that 
is  better.  I  wonder  if  Lizzette  could  keep  her  hands  from 
Anna's  hair  ribbon.  Are  we  ready?  For  this  is  another 
story  with  a  hidden  meaning." 

Tony  hung  tightly  to  the  window-ledge,  his  eyes  riveted 

[3] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

upon  the  teacher,  every  nerve  Strained  so  as  not  to  lose  a 
single  word  of  what  was  to  follow. 

The  musical  voice  went  on : 

"  Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  little  child  who  had  in 
his  care  and  keeping  a  wonderful  white  room. 

"  This  little  room  was  the  home  of  a  beautiful  spirit  who 
grew  only  under  the  sunshine  of  good  thoughts  and  deeds. 
So,  of  course,  it  was  necessary  that  the  windows  and  doors 
of  the  little  room  should  be  always  wide  open  for  the 
sunlight  to  stream  in. 

"  But,  somehow,  this  little  child  did  not  know  how  to 
care  for  his  little  white  room  or  the  beautiful  spirit,  for  he 
lived  in  a  dirty  alley  where  not  one  ray  of  God's  sunlight 
ever  shone.  He  knew  nothing  whatever  of  loving  thoughts 
or  of  good  deeds.  So,  as  the  windows  and  doors  were 
ever  closed,  the  little  white  room  grew  darker  and  darker, 
and  the  spirit  drooped,  just  like  the  pretty  flower  Elsa  for 
got  to  put  in  water  yesterday.  And  the  strangest  thing  of 
all  was,  that  the  child's  face  showed  just  how  the  spirit 
felt.  He  was  never  happy;  his  eyes  were  never  glad;  his 
lips  never  smiled,  but  drooped  at  the  corners  like  the 
points  of  a  crescent  moon  hung  upside  down  in  the  sky. 

"One  day  he  thought  he  would  go  out  beyond  the 
dirty  alley  to  see  what  he  could  find.  And  what  do  you 
think  he  saw? 

"A  garden!   A  wonderful  garden  full  of  flowers  and 

[4] 


THE  STORY 

laughing  children ;  even  grown-ups  were  there,  and  every 
one  seemed  so  happy !  They  gathered  the  flowers,  and  no 
sooner  were  they  picked  than  new  ones  grew  on  the 
bushes. 

"The  little  child  wonderingly  watched  them,  and  so 
rapt  was  he  that  he  did  not  know  that  a  beautiful  angel 
was  standing  near  him  till  he  heard  a  whisper  in  his  ear : 

" '  Come,  little  child,  come  with  me.'  Soon  he  found  him 
self  standing  beside  a  bush  of  soft  white  roses,  the  fra 
grance  of  which  filled  the  entire  garden. 

" '  Pick  one,'  whispered  the  angel, '  and  place  it  in  the  little 
white  room.  They  are  Roses  of  Love  and  will  never  fade.' 

"The  child  had  never  seen  roses,  had  never  heard  of 
love.  But  he  knew  of  the  hurt  spirit  in  the  dark  little 
room.  So  he  obeyed  the  angel. 

"No  sooner  had  he  picked  the  rose  than  what  do  you 
think  happened  to  the  little  room? 

"The  windows  and  doors  flew  open.  The  little,  droop 
ing  spirit  caught  the  fragrance  of  the  white  rose,  awoke 
and  began  to  sing.  Then  the  child  looked  up  at  the 
angel's  face  and  smiled — yes,  smiled. 

"You  see,  the  Rose  of  Love  had  filled  the  little  white 
room,  and  had  made  the  spirit  so  glad ! 

"'Now,  go  home,'  whispered  the  angel,  'and  show  your 
rose  to  those  who  have  never  seen  nor  heard  of  love. 
Go, — open  other  little  darkened  rooms.' 

[5] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

"So  the  child  left  the  beautiful  garden,  but  he  carried 
the  White  Rose  of  Love  close  to  his  heart,  for  that  was 
his  little  white  room." 

A  solemn  hush  fell  upon  the  youthful  group. 

Outside,  Tony  was  thinking  deeply ;  he  was  also  won 
dering  a  great  deal.  The  teacher's  white  hands,  her  face 
and  her  voice  were  new  types  to  him.  No  one  in  the  Row 
or  in  the  tenement  ever  smiled  with  her  eyes  as  did  this 
girl-woman  who  glood  before  the  circle  holding  out  her 
arms  to  them  all. 

"  O  babies ! "  she  cried.  "  My  little  ones,  I  do  want  you 
to  know  more  of  this  beautiful,  wonderful  love.  Do  you 
know,  dearies,  it  will  change  your  little  lives  and  make 
you  —  oh,  so  happy ! " 

Eagerly  and  heedlessly  Tony  leaned  forward — a  crash, 
a  thud !  Scrambling  to  his  feet,  Tony  flung  open  the  gate 
and  fled  with  all  possible  speed,  not  Stopping  until  he 
reached  the  tenement  in  the  Row. 

He  sank  down  on  the  first  doorstep  to  rest  and  inci 
dentally  to  think  over  all  he  had  seen  and  heard. 

"Gee!"  He  looked  dazed  and  bewildered.  "D' yer  t'ink 
it's  'nother  dem  dreams?  Thet  room  an' dem  purty  pic- 
ters — an'  her!  Gee!  I  hadn't  orter  butt  inter  her  yarn. 
Say,  dat  wuz  bad,  fer  sure ! " 

He  rose  sorrowfully  and  thrust  both  grimy  hands  down 
deep  into  his  pockets. 

[6] 


THE  STORY 

"Say,  dat's  de  dope 'bout  de  room  all  right,  but  ain't 
never  heerd  of  love  any;  wusht  I  knowed  if  it  is  ter — eat." 

He  walked  thoughtfully  into  the  tumbled-down  building 
and  through  a  labyrinth  of  halls  and  stairways,  past  dirty 
babies,  quarreling  children,  and  slatternly  women. 

Before  a  door  at  the  end  of  the  hall  he  paused  to  listen. 
Hearing  no  sound,  he  entered  the  room  and  closed  the 
door  gently  behind  him. 

Owing  to  the  coat  of  dirt  and  cobwebs  upon  the  narrow 
window,  the  light  was  dim.  Tony's  sharp  eyes  glanced 
anxiously  toward  a  tiny  bundle  lying  on  one  of  the  broken 
beds.  All  was  quiet. 

He  sat  down  on  one  of  the  boxes  lying  on  the  floor,  his 
head  bowed  in  his  hands,  and  systematically  began  to 
meditate  over  his  morning's  adventure. 

The  bundle  stirred,  and  a  feeble  wail  filled  the  room. 
Instantly  Tony  gathered  in  his  thin  arms  a  young  infant 
who  reached  up  two  dirty  little  hands  to  clutch  his  coat. 

"Gee,  Li'les'  Kid,  youse  de  gamest  feller  I  ever  see — 
sleepin*  all  de  time  Tony  wuz  out  wid  de  swells.  Say, 
Li'les'  Kid,  jes  open  yer  eyes.  I'se  got  de  yarn  fer  you ! 
Say — why — yer  smiles  jes  de  way  she  looks  —  ef  yer 
don't!" 

He  straightened  the  single  garment  and  cuddled  the 
little  one  to  him. 

"Well,  Li'les'  Kid,  mebbe  'tis  one  o'  dem  dreams.  Gee! 

[7] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

D'  y'u  know,  't  ain't  nothin'  like  I  see  before.  She  looks  like 
you  feel,  sof  an'  nice." 

His  eyes  fell  upon  the  filth  and  barrenness  of  the  pov 
erty-stricken  room,  which  he  saw  for  the  first  time.  But 
Tony  was  somewhat  of  a  philosopher,  so  merely  shrugged 
his  bent  shoulders  vaguely. 

"Aw,  wot's  de  use!  Say,  Li'les'  Kid,  de  lady  wot  Tony 
tells  yer  'bout  is  er  bang  up  one.  Never  growed  in  er 
tenerment,  yer  bet!  She  sed  us  a  yarn  'bout  er  feller  an' 
his  white  room  wot  wuz  allus  shut.  Say,  didjer  know  yer 
hed  er  white  room  an*  er  spurrit?  Dat's  a  burrd,  Li'les' 
Kid.  Seen  one  onct.  Well,  dis  yere  kid  got  inter  er  yard 
an'  picked  some  roses, — roses  of  love  she  called  'em  —  an' 
dey  busted  de  room  open.  Gee !  Ain't  never  seen  nothin' 
full  'nough  ter  bust  open  here." 

He  looked  down  into  the  blue  eyes  of  the  babe  wistfully. 

"Say,  Li'les'  Kid,  'tis  love,  an'  Tony  don't  know  wot 
love  is, — wusht  I  did." 

The  babe  whimpered. 

" Hungry,  Li'les'  Kid?  Seems  ter  me  youse  allus  hungry. 
Why,  me  an'  de  kids  don*  eat  ha'f  yer  do.  Youse  got  de 
tank,  fer  sure.  Never  min',  yer  goin'  ter  hev  love — ef  it's 
ter  eat — Li'les'  Kid.  Nothin  *s  too  good  fer  dis  girl  baby, 

n 

sure. 

All  the  while  he  was  talking,  Tony  had  been  busy. 
From  an  old  cigar-box,  which  he  drew  from  under  the 

[8] 


THE  STORY 

bed,  he  produced  a  cup  of  milk  and  a  crust  of  bread. 
These  he  fed  to  the  famished  baby. 

His  face  was  full  of  perplexity  as  he  pondered  over  the 
possible  meaning  of  the  new  word. 

Suddenly  he  sprang  to  his  feet  crying  joyfully: 

"Why,  Murphy '11  know!  She's  got  all  kinds  of  dope. 
An',  gee,  Li'les*  Kid,  youse  kin  hev  yer  li'le  white  room 
full,  jes  t'ink,  full  an*  bustin'!" 

Hugging  the  wondering  child  closely  to  him,  Tony  hur 
ried  out  into  the  halls,  down  the  stairway  to  Mrs.  Murphy's 
room. 

He  found  that  worthy  lady  singing  lustily  over  the  wash- 
tubs.  Pouring  from  the  adjoining  room,  an  avalanche  of 
small  Murphys  dressed  in  the  briefest  of  costumes,  over 
powered  him,  screaming  shrilly  "f  er  ter  see  the  Li'les'  Kid ! " 

"  Whisht,  now,  ye  spalpeens !  Ter  bed  wid  yez,  an*  think 
shame,  an'  none  on  yez  havin'  ez  much  ez  er  Stitch  on  yer 
backs.  Git  now." 

One  by  one  the  youthful  band  of  defeated  Celts  re 
treated  to  the  citadel  of  the  family  bed. 

Mrs.  Murphy  gathered  the  remainder  of  the  garments 
lying  about  and  threw  them  into  the  tubs.  This  done,  she 
sat  down  and,  after  wiping  her  red  face  on  her  apron, 
took  the  babe  from  Tony's  arms. 

"  Arrah  noo,  Tony,  lad,  'tis  a  dirty  gurrl  yez  do  be  after 
havin'." 

[9] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

She  critically  surveyed  the  infant,  while  Tony,  an  absent 
expression  on  his  face,  looked  on.  He  was  far  away  in  the 
Kindergarten  room,  the  words,  "roses  of  love,  of  love," 
flitting  through  his  brain  like  the  refrain  of  a  sweet  song. 

He  looked  sadly  at  the  child. 

"Dey's  all  de  clothes  she's  got,  Murphy." 

"An*  'tis  no  more  my  kids  hev,  Tony.  'Tis  ter  Murphy 
yez'll  bring  her  to-morrow,  lad,  an*  't  is  me  who  will  wash 
de  clothes.  Aye,  an'  't  is  a  scrubbin'  de  babe  will  be  after 
a-havin',  sure." 

The  boy  looked  at  the  kindly  Irishwoman,  then,  coming 
closely  to  her,  he  earnestly  asked : 

"  Murphy,  wot 's  love  ?  " 

In  her  astonishment  Mrs.  Murphy  almost  dropped  the 
babe,  but  after  a  withering  glance  of  scorn  she  rose  and 
bundled  the  little  one  into  Tony's  arms. 

"  De  divil  fly  awa*  wid  yez  an'  yer  fool  questions !  Wot 
does  a  bye  be  after  a-askin'  fer  love  fer?  Sure,  an*  'tis  not 
in  er  tiniment  yez  finds  it,  Oi'll  be  a-thinkin* ! " 

She  bent  over  the  tubs  once  more. 

"But,  Murphy,"  Tony  persisted,  "ez  it  er  flower  or 
somepin'  ter  eat — er — wot  is  it?" 

"Ter  eat,  yez  ask?  An'  'tis  an  empty  glomick  yez'll  be 
a-havin'  ef  yez  live  on  love.  'T  is  not  a  fillin'  kin'  o'  food." 

Tony  gasped  —  not  filling !   "  But  — " 

"See  here,  Tony,  yez  air  a  bit  daft;  all  folks  is,  wot  be 

[10] 


THE  STORY 

after  a-thinkin'  o'  sech  fool  talk.  Love?  Pooh!  'Tis  wot  I 
married  Pat  f er,  an'  not  a  whiff  av  it  Oi've  seen  sence.  Git 
along  wid  yez,  an'  min' — let  love  be,  an'  tek  care  o'  yer  kid." 

Very  slowly,  Tony  went  back  through  the  dingy  halls. 

"Murphy  don*  know  ever't'ing,"  he  muttered  stubbornly. 
"She's  not  hed  any,  dat's  wot.  Dem  roses  an*  flowers  were 
piclers,  piclers  o'  love,  same  ez  de  white  room  an'  de  heart." 

In  the  doorway,  dressed  in  a  dirty,  flowing  kimono,  stood 
a  young  girl  whose  pretty  face  was  almost  hidden  by  a 
huge  dilapidated  pompadour  hanging  over  one  eye. 

"Say,  Maggie,"  Tony  called,  "does  yer  know  wot  love 
is?  Gee!  Wot 'sde  matter?  Sick?"  For  the  girl  had  turned 
very  white,  and  covering  her  face  with  her  kimono  she 
fled  within  the  room. 

"Gee,  de  bunch  is  crazy.  Say,  Li'les'  Kid,  I'll  bet  dey's 
all  hed  some  love,  but  not  de  kin*  she  sed.  Nope.  Jes  bet 
dey's  hed  some  udder  kin'  o'  love  dope,  an'  dey's  got  sick. 
Yer  did  onct  on  er  banana,  'member,  Li'les'  Kid?  Now, 
de  teacher's  kin'  iz  de  real  t'ing,  yer  bet  'tis, —  de  real  t'ing, 
fer  sure." 

Within  the  room  again,  seated  upon  the  old  rocker, 
Tony  ruminated  at  length. 

"  Jes  de  way  she  looked  showed  she  wuz  no  bogus.  She 
hed  er  smile  dat  made  yer  feel  like  de  sun  after  er  rain. 
She  sed,  Li'les'  Kid,  d' yer  hear?"  The  baby  was  fasT: 
asleep,  her  head  in  the  hollow  of  Tony's  arm. 

[11] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

"  Never  min',  yer  kin  sleep,  an*  I  kin  talk  jes  de  same. 
She  sed  de  yarn  wuz  all  picters.  I  know  roses.  Seen  'em 
onc5t  on  a  bang-up  swell  where  I  sells  de  papers.  Love  ez 
purty — like  de  roses,  dat's  sure." 

Thoughtfully  he  watched  the  breathing  of  the  infant, 
noted  the  blue  circles  under  the  long  lashes,  and  the  thin, 
little  wrinkled  cheeks. 

"  Say,  yer  er  goin'  ter  be  red  an*  fat,  mebbe,  when  dis 
love  bizness  ez  begun." 

From  the  hallway  came  the  sound  of  a  scuffle.  Instantly 
gathering  the  baby  to  him,  Tony  rose  and,  with  an  expres 
sion  of  intense  bitterness  on  his  face,  retreated  to  the 
corner  of  the  room. 

The  door  burst  open  and  two  little  boys  noisily  entered. 

His  anxious  look  vanished,  an  expression  of  good-na 
tured  annoyance  taking  its  place. 

"  Shet  up,  youse,  ye'll  wake  de  kid." 

"Got  anything  ter  eat?"  hungrily  demanded  the  older 
boy,  looking  sharply  about  the  empty  room. 

"  Nope,  yer  come  ter  de  wrong  shop." 

"  She's  hed  some."  The  boy  glanced  suspiciously  at  the 
babe  in  Tony's  arms. 

Both  youngsters  were  as  unlike  Tony  in  their  features 
and  in  their  manners  as  three  boys  could  possibly  be. 

"  Sure,"  Tony  grinned  cheerfully. 

"Aw,  yer  allus  give  her  de  grub." 

[12] 


THE  STORY 

The  wolfish  glare  which  accompanied  the  boy's  remark 
was  shared  by  the  younger  one,  who,  having  been  on  an 
exploring  expedition  and  having  overturned  every  dish, 
box,  and  even  the  bed  in  his  search,  now  joined  his  brother 
in  defiantly  facing  Tony. 

"  We  're  hungry."  It  was  the  daily  cry.   Tony  sighed. 

"Same  here.  See  here,  kids,  you'd  better  go  an*  hunt  fer 
grub.  She  —  ain't  been  here  ter-day.  Mebbe  she  —  won't 
come  ter-night.  I'll  fin'  de  grub  fer  yer  after  I  sells  de  papers, 
see  ?  Ain't  hed  nothin'  myself,"  he  added  in  an  underbreath. 

"Say,  I  tells  yer,  go  out  an'  t'ink  yer  full;  it  makes  you 
feel  better." 

The  two  little  boys  looked  at  each  other  inquiringly. 
Tony  softly  soothed  the  fretful  child. 

"Say,  kids,  it  ain't  no  use'n  kickin',  so  hike." 

They  grumbled  somewhat,  but  after  a  more  vigorous 
search  started  for  the  door,  Tony  watching  them  curiously. 

"Say,"  he  called  out,  "did  yer  ever  heer  of  love?" 

They  shook  their  heads;  the  youngest  asked  greedily: 

"Anyt'ing  ter  eat?" 

"Dunno;  it's  a  queer  dope.  Say,  ef  you  kids  fin*  out 
wot  it  is  I'll  give  yer  some  pennies.  Are  yer  game?" 

One  boy  was  busily  fastening  his  trousers  to  his  waist 
by  a  string.  The  other,  furtively  watching  Tony's  face, 
suspiciously  asked : 

"Who  tells  yer 'bout  it?" 

[13] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

"  Aw,  a  swell  told  me."  Tony's  tones  were  non-committal. 

"  Ax  him,  an'  he'll  give  yer  some." 

"Dat's  so."  Tony  looked  out  of  the  dingy  window. 
"You'se  kin  cut  now,  an'  go  sof',  de  kid's  er  sleep." 

Once  more  silence  fell  upon  the  room. 

Softly  Tony  laid  the  babe  down  on  the  bed.  Walking 
to  the  window  he  looked  out  upon  the  noisy  court  below. 

"Dat's  wot  I'll  do.    Murphy'll  hev  de  kid  an'  I  kin  go." 

"  Gee ! "  He  hurriedly  brushed  his  eyes. 

"Never  hed  sech  er  t'ing  hold  me  like  dis  yere  love. 
Makes  me  t'ink  of  de  —  sun,  fer  sure.  Roses  of  love — of 
love.  Whyee — sort  of  makes  me  like  de  Li'les'  Kid,  sof 
an'  nice,  jes  ter  say  it  —  love — love." 


[14] 


CHAPTER  II 

"WOT  IS  LOVE?" 

EJ_EN  GRAY,  or  Miss  Ellen,  as  the  children  called 
her,  was  seated  by  her  desk  in  the  Kindergarten 
room,  busily  threading  needles. 
The  early  morning  sun  slowly  drifted  into  the 
schoolroom  upon  the  circle  of  tiny  chairs  that 
were  awaiting  their  daily  occupants. 

At  the  sound  of  a  footstep,  Miss  Ellen  glanced  toward 
the  doorway,  and  there  she  saw,  standing  on  the  threshold, 
a  boy,  the  oddest  specimen  of  childhood  that,  even  in  her 
varied  experience,  she  had  ever  beheld. 

Judging  by  his  size,  he  might  have  been  ten  years  or 
so;  judging  by  the  care-worn  lines  on  his  face  and  the 
sadness  in  his  blue  eyes,  he  might  have  been  three  times 
as  old. 

Miss  Ellen  rose.  "  Why,  good  morning,  my  little  man,  I 

am  very  glad  to  see  you.  Won't  you  come  in  and  sit  down  ?" 

The  boy  silently  obeyed,  his  eyes  riveted  upon  Miss 

[15] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

Ellen's  face.  If  the  young  teacher  was  studying  her  strange 
visitor,  he,  without  question,  was  studying  her. 

"What  is  your  name,  dear?" 

Dear!  He  turned  the  word  over  in  his  mind,  as  one 
who  has  tasted  for  the  first  time  an  unaccustomed  sweet 
morsel. 

"  Tony,"  he  slowly  answered. 

"And  my  name  is  Miss  Ellen.  Now  that  we  are  so  well 
acquainted,  won't  you  sit  down  in  this  little  chair?" 

Somewhat  bewildered,  Tony  seated  himself,  his  eyes 
reeling  on  the  white  hand  of  the  young  teacher.  Pointing 
abruptly,  he  said : 

"Say,  dat's  like  de  Li'les'  Kid." 

Miss  Ellen  at  once  became  interested. 

"Yes?  And  who  is  the  Li'les'  Kid?" 

"  Me  baby  sifter."  The  note  of  pride  in  Tony's  voice 
did  not  escape  the  questioner.  "A  baby  sifter!  How 
lovely!  And  have  you  any  little  brother?" 

"Two."  The  tone  was  curt. 

"Why!"  exclaimed  Miss  Ellen,  keenly  watching  the 
expression  on  the  boy's  sensitive  face.  "  A  baby  sister,  two 
brothers, — a  mother,  of  course,  and  a  father?"  The  ques 
tion,  indirect  as  it  was,  brought  a  look  of  such  intense  hatred 
and  settled  bitterness  into  Tony's  face  that  she  was  Startled. 

He  had  been  looking  out  of  the  window,  the  very  one 
famous  for  the  adventure  of  the  day  before. 

[16] 


'WOT  IS  LOVE?" 

Suddenly  he  turned  and  faced  the  girl,  who  was  watching 
him  intently,  and  eagerly  demanded : 

"  Say,  I  come  here  ter  fin'  out  'bout  dat  yarn  yer  spieled 
ter  de  kids  yest'day — de  yarn  'bout  de  white  room,  an'  de 
feller  wot  found  de  yard  of  roses,  an'  what  I  wants  ter 
know  is  'bout  de  love.  See?  I  knows  de  heart  an'  de 
roses, —  but — love — wot  is  love?" 

Tony  was  standing  close  to  Miss  Ellen,  his  slender  body, 
visible  through  the  ragged  clothes,  trembling  with  ex 
citement. 

Miss  Ellen  looked  deeply  into  the  blue  eyes  and  read 
even  more  than  his  appeal  had  conveyed.  In  the  demand 
of  the  boy,  coming  from  his  starved  soul,  she  heard  the 
echo  of  the  universal  call  of  the  world  for  the  deeper 
knowledge  of  a  spiritualized  human  love. 

She  had  seen  the  tragedy  in  the  expression  of  his  face 
which  her  reference  to  his  mother  had  brought.  But  being 
wise  in  her  understanding  of  child  life,  she  very  gently 
asked : 

"Were  you  here  yesterday?   I  didn't  see  you." 

Tony  hung  his  head  for  a  moment,  then  sadly  answered : 

"I  wasn't  fitten  ter  come  in.  I  swiped  er  look  tru  de 
winder.  Dat  wuz  bad  —  er  buttin'  inter  de  yarn." 

"  Never  mind,  dear,  I  am  very  glad  you  heard  the  story. 
Now,  to  your  question.  Before  I  answer  it,  Tony,  tell  me 
all  about  your  baby  sister." 

[17] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

Tony  grinned. 

"Aw,  she  is  jes  a  baby  girl  —  but,  gee!  She  is  sof  an' 
warm  ;  and  when  yer  holds  her,  it  jes  makes  yer  feel  like 
her.  See?"  Miss  Ellen  nodded,  her  eyes  brimming. 

"  She  can't  do  nothin'  but  eat  an*  yell,  but  she  makes  all 
de  days  like  all  sunny  days.  She  is  smily,  too,  an'  hoi's 
onter  yer,  —  say,  I  takes  de  hull  care  of  her  ;  dere  's  no  one 
ter  do  it  but  me,  an'  yer  bet  she  gets  all  dere  is  comin',  f  er 


sure." 


"And  the  little  brothers?" 

Tony  shifted  uneasily  in  his  seat. 

"Aw,  dey's  allus  er  kickin'  an*  er  swipin*  de  Li'les*  Kid's 
grub.  Say,  dey  's  like  all  de  udder  kids  in  de  tenerment  — 
dey's  jes  bad  all  over." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry!  It  must  make  you  feel  very  badly." 

Tony  looked  up  at  the  grave  brown  eyes,  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders. 

"Aw,  dey  don't  keep  me  'wake  none.  I  don'  care  'bout 
dem  kids.  Dey's  jes  soon  do  me  dirt,  an'  I  buys  all  de 
grub  fer  dem  —  dat  dey  don'  swipe."  He  glanced  out  of 
the  window  once  more. 

Miss  Ellen  leaned  forward,  touching  Tony's  grimy  hands. 

"Do  you  like  your  little  sifter?" 

"  Betcher  life  I  do,"  was  the  prompt  response. 

"And  you  care  for  her,  keep  her  with  you  all  night,  feed 
her,  dress  and  bathe  her  and  —  love  her?" 

[18] 


"Do  you  life  your  little  sister  P  "  " Betcher  life  I  do, " 
was  the  prompt  response. 


'WOT  IS  LOVE?" 

Bewildered,  Tony  looked  up. 

"Love  her?   I  ain't  onter  de  game." 

"Yes,  dear,  you  are  on  to  the  game.  You  love  the  little 
sister  and  have  never  known  it. 

"Love  is  something  within  your  own  heart  that  makes 
you  do  for  the  baby  the  things  you  do.  You  must  never 
say  the  word  *  like,'  for  that  is  a  weak  word.  You  must  say 
'  love ' ;  it  means  so  much  more  than  '  like.'  You  like  a  per 
son  with  your  head,  but  you  love  with  your  heart  and  soul. 
When  you  love,  you  fill  the  little  white  room  I  told  you  of 
yesterday,  and  you  make  the  spirit  glad." 

She  looked  earnestly  down  at  the  child's  face  as  he 
Struggled  to  adjust  the  new  word  to  his  emotions. 

"  Gee ! "  he  muttered,  "  I  hed  de  dope  an'  never  knowed 
it.  But  say,  I  ain't  heerd  it  before." 

Miss  Ellen  smiled  gently. 

"No?  Well,  Tony,  you  know  it  now,  and  you  must  be 
lieve  in  your  love.  Say  it  over, '  I  love  the  Li'les'  Kid.'  Do 
you  see?" 

"Yep,  I  t'ink  so.  Say,  ain't  it  jes  like  hate, — dat's 
stronger  'n  not-a-likin'  ?  " 

"That's  just  it.  Now  I  want  you  to  listen  very  carefully. 
I  think  we  had  better  go  over  there  in  the  sunlight."  She 
led  the  boy  to  the  center  of  the  room,  and  in  the  little 
chairs,  in  a  halo  of  sunshine,  the  two  sat  down. 

"Tony,  how  does  the  sun  feel  to  you?" 

[19] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

"  Warm  an'  sof  *  an'  nice." 

"  Yes.   That  is  just  the  way  love  feels." 

Tony  nodded.  "  Yer  bet 't  is !  Say,  it  made  me  feel  like 
dat  las'  night  jes  er  sayin'  it." 

"You  are  a  dear  laddie."  Miss  Ellen's  eyes  were  glow 
ing  softly  as  she  turned  to  him. 

"  Tony,"  she  asked, "  have  you  ever  heard  of  God  ?  " 

Tony  reflected.  It  did  not  dawn  upon  him  that  the 
sacred  name  which  fell  so  reverently  from  Miss  Ellen's 
lips  could  ever  have  had  the  slightest:  association  with  the 
ill-pronounced  word  handled  so  profanely  in  the  tenement. 

"  Nope,"  he  answered  slowly. 

Miss  Ellen  thought  for  a  moment,  then  leaning  forward, 
facing  the  boy,  she  earnestly  and  carefully  began : 

"  Tony,  dear,  when  you  hold  your  baby  sifter  in  your 
arms,  care  for  and  love  her,  do  you  feel  cross  toward  her 
or  do  you  feel  full  of  love?" 

Tony's  eyes  danced.  "  Gee !  a  feller  could  n't  git  cross 
wid  'er ;  why,  she  makes  yer  feel  good  all  tru.  You  bet ! " 

"  Of  course  you  do.  You  could  n't  harm  her  while  you 
love  her.  And  the  baby,  is  she  good  and  sweet?" 

The  boy's  eyes  grew  large.  "  Why,  she  can't  help  bein* 
good.  She's  er  li'le  bunch  of — love.  Dat's  wot  she  is." 

Miss  Ellen  smiled.  How  quaint  was  this  little  lad,  and 
how  easily  did  he  fall  into  her  line  of  thought. 

"Well  then,  Tony,  all  this  beautiful  love  within  your 

[20] 


'WOT  IS  LOVE?" 

heart  and  in  the  baby's,  everything  that  is  beautiful  and 
good,  comes  from  God,  and  is  God. 

"  The  sun  and  the  rain,  the  flowers  and  the  green  grass, 
everything  in  our  lovely  out-of-doors,  come  from  God,  to 
show  us  what  His  love  is." 

She  paused,  impressed  by  the  expression  of  awe  on  the 
boy's  face,  then  thoughtfully  went  on : 

"There  is  a  thought-picture  of  God's  home — a  picture 
just  like  the  white  room  and  the  heart ;  this  home,  we  say, 
is  above  the  blue  sky,  and  there  is  a  garden  there  far  more 
beautiful  than  any  in  our  city  parks,  full  of  roses  whiter 
even  than  those  I  spoke  of,  and  the  air  in  that  wonderful 
home-place  is  full  of  love — love  which  you  and  I  can  never 
dream  of  knowing  till  we  go  there."  Miss  Ellen's  eyes 
glowed  softly.  "  Why,  Tony,  if  you  could  gather  all  the 
glorious,  precious  things  together,  thoughts  full  of  love, 
everybody  who  is  good,  a  city  full  of  these,  then  you  might 
have  just  an  idea  of  how  wonderful  God  is.  You  see,  He 
wanted  us  to  grow  like  Him,  so  He  gave  us  His  own  self — 
His  love.  We  are  to  love  each  other  and  to  be  kind  to  each 
other,  because  that  is  the  way  to  be  like  God.  And  oh, 
Tony,  God  loves  us  far  more  than  we  can  ever  think  of 
loving.  Do  you  understand,  dear?" 

He  nodded  vaguely. 

Miss  Ellen  pondered.  How  could  she  teach  this  boy  of 
the  deeper  fatherhood  and  of  the  brooding  motherhood  of 

[21] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

the  Creator  when  even  of  human  love  he  knew  nothing, 
save  that  which  he  gave  to  the  little  babe. 

Drawing  the  boy  more  closely  to  her  and  taking  his 
hands  in  hers,  she  said:  "Tony, dear,  He  loves  you  and 
the  Li'les'  Kid.  He  loves  me  and  my  babies  here.  He 
loves — your  mother,  too." 

Tony  looked  up  quickly,  then  turned  away  his  head. 

"Aw,  yer  don'  come  dat  on  me." 

"But  I  do,  Tony.  He  loves  us  all.  Now,  dear,  my  time 
is  up,  but  you  are  going  to  stay  awhile  ?  " 

"  Yep,  ef  I  won't  be  in  de  way." 

"  No,  dear,  I  want  you  to  stay  as  long  as  you  can.  Sit 
here  in  this  chair."  She  bent  down  and  whispered :  "  Tony, 
say  it  over  and  over  to  yourself:  'God  is  love.  I  love 
Him,  He  loves  me,  and  I  love  the  Li'les'  Kid.'  Will  you  ?  " 

He  looked  up  at  her  mistily,  and  shyly  added,  "An* 
Tony  loves  yer  too,  ef  yer  don'  mind." 

Bless  your  heart,  dear.  And  Miss  Ellen  loves  you  too, 
ever  so  much." 

Tony  sat  all  through  the  session  which  followed,  like 
one  living  in  a  dream,  a  dream  in  which  only  he  and  Miss 
Ellen  moved. 

Sitting  there  in  the  clean,  sunlit  room,  the  circle  of  happy 
faces  about  him,  his  own  heart  full  of  his  new  discovery 
and  his  active  mind  already  reaching  out  for  deeper 
knowledge,  Tony  listened  to  the  glory  of  a  more  perfect 

[22] 


'WOT  IS  LOVE?" 

love,  the  love  which  forgives,  no  matter  how  deep  the 
injury. 

Forcibly,  yet  gently,  the  little  sermon  was  preached.  But 
Tony's  eyes  grew  hard  and  the  lines  of  bitterness  returned 
to  his  face.  Miss  Ellen  grew  troubled  as  she  noted  the 
change,  for  this  strange,  sad  boy,  with  his  longing  cry,  had 
taken  hold  of  her  heart,  while  the  desire  to  help  him  be 
came  very  strong  within  her. 

At  recess,  after  the  last  wee  straggler  had  trotted  out  of 
sight,  Tony  rose,  and,  walking  slowly  to  the  teacher,  said 
gravely :  "  Say,  ain't  sure  'bout  dat  feller  wot  yer  telled  of — 
God.  Am  er  fixin'  it  all  in  my  head  dis  way, — sorter : '  We's 
like  de  kids  out  dere,'  pointing  to  the  yard  full  of  frolickers, 
'  an'  He  is  de  same  ez  you.'  Ain't  dat  it  ?  " 

There  was  not  a  trace  of  irreverence  in  the  untutored 
child's  comparison,  only  his  quaint  mannerism,  his  evi 
dent  love  for  the  mental  pictures,  which  is  ofttimes  so 
difficult  to  instil  in  the  mind  of  the  practical  child  of  the 
tenement. 

Miss  Ellen  understood  him  at  once.  "  Yes,  dear,  only, 
even  though  I  love  my  babies  here,  I  can  never  love  them 
as  He  does.  You  love  your  baby  sister,  but  He  loves  you 
both  a  thousand  times  more." 

"All  ter  onct?"  The  question  came  from  a  very  aston 
ished  boy. 

"Why,  He  loves  the  entire  city  full  of  people,  Tony. 

[23] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

Oh,  little  lad,  love  comes  from  Him ;  there  is  no  limit  to 
God's  love!  Do  you  understand?" 

Tony  drew  his  hands  from  out  his  trousers'  pockets,  as 
he  slowly  and  thoughtfully  answered:  "I  t'ink  I  do.  It's 
too  big  fer  er  li'le  kid  like  me  to  ketch  onter  ter  onct.  It'll 
take  time,  an'  mebbe  when  I  tells  de  Li'les*  Kid  'bout  it  all 
an*  'bout  Him,  I'll  get  onter  it  more." 

Miss  Ellen  patted  his  thin  shoulders  encouragingly. 

"  Come  to-morrow,  Tony,  and  come  early  so  that  we  can 
have  a  long  talk.  Don't  forget  to  think  love  and  to  say  it. 
You  see,  dear,  you  have  it  in  you,  and  all  you  need  to  do  is 
to  open  the  doors  and  windows  wide  in  the  little  room  and 
to  say  over  and  over:  *  I  am  God's  child,  and  God  is  love.' " 

Back  in  the  turbulent  tenement  with  the  babe  in  his 
arms,  Tony  repeated  the  whole  wonderful  story.  At  its 
conclusion  he  paused,  as  slowly  but  convincingly  there 
flashed  in  his  mind — the  love  that  forgives. 

He  looked  down  at  the  wee  brown  head  on  his  arm; 
he  looked  at  the  dirty  room.  He  saw  with  the  eyes  of  one 
who  has  been  awakened  to  the  higher  possibilities  of  life, 
only  to  be  confronted  by  the  deadly  barrier  of  environment. 

With  a  sob  of  passionate  bitterness,  grief  and  despair, 
he  cried:  " Aw, 't ain't  no  use,  Li'les' Kid !  'T ain't  no  use! 
We  can't  never  be  no  better, 'cause — she — ain't  never 
done  us  no  good.  She — don't  even  like  us,  nor  feed  us. 
Oh,  Li'les'  Kid — she — ain't — no  good!  An'  we  mus'  love 

[24] 


'WOT  IS  LOVE?" 

her,  'cause  Miss  Ellen  sed  that  He  wants  us  ter  love  even 
such  ez — an' —  an* —  baby — I  can't  —  I  can't."  He  bowed 
his  head  upon  the  warm  little  body,  and  for  the  first  time 
in  years  the  tears  trickled  down  his  cheeks. 


[25] 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  WHITE  ROSE 

OPEN  up  yer  squinters,  Li'les'  Kid,  'cause  Tony 
wants  yer  ter  listen.   Say,  does  yer  t'ink  dat 
dis  is  Tony  wot's  er  holdin'yer,  or  does  yer 
t'ink  it's  de  dream  Tony  wot  he  hez  been  er 
tellin'  of  ?  Gee !  It 's  'nough  ter  make  yer  dizzy 
de  way  me  heart  has  been  on  de  move, — ever  sence  las' 
week,  an'  sence  Miss  Ellen  told  me  'bout  Him,  an'  His  boy. 
Say,  Li'les'  Kid,  eat  yer  grub  an'  go  ter  sleep.   I've  gotter 
go  an'  see  Miss  Ellen.  Can't  stay  dis  mornin'  long,  'cause — 
'cause — she — might  come  back  an'  fin'  yer  all  alone.  See?" 
Tony  paused,  a  scowl  gathering  on  his  forehead. 
The  baby  having  finished  her  frugal  breakfast  began  to 
fret  sleepily.   Tony  rocked  her  gently  to  and  fro  on  his 
knees,  softly  talking  all  the  while. 

"Yep,  an'  Miss  Ellen,  she  telled  me  'bout  His  house  an* 
His  boy,  wot  He  sent  ter  us  ter  show  jes  how  we  orter 
love.  Gee,  an*  dey  jes  up  an*  done  Him  dirt,  dey  did, 

[26] 


THE  WHITE  ROSE 

an'  d'yer  know,  Li'les'  Kid,  He  loved  'em  jes  de  same. 
Why — ee!  Li'les'  Kid,  ef  yer  ain't 'sleep  an'  me  er  tellin' 
yer  de  greates'  yarn  ever.  Aw,  yer  don'  know  it,  but  yer 
b'long  ter  Him,  an'  ef  Tony  kin,  yer'll  not  grow  up  in  dis 
tenerment  where  sof,  white  baby  girls  grow  up  'thout 
knowin*  'bout  de  li'le  white  rooms  an'  de  roses  of  love." 

The  boy  carried  the  sleeping  child  to  the  mattress  and 
carefully  covered  her  with  an  old  shawl. 

"Aw,  Li'les'  Kid,"  he  whispered,  bending  over  her,  the 
great  longing  of  his  soul  in  his  blue  eyes, "  yer  er  goin'  ter 
be  like  Miss  Ellen,  does  yer  hear?  Yer  must,  oh,  yer  must, 
an'  yer  li'le  white  room  mus'  feel  only  purty  words !  O 
baby — Li'les'  Kid — don't  listen  ter — her — will  yer?  Don' 
even  look  at — her;  she  won't  fill  de  white  room  an*  she 
don'  know 'bout  Him  an'  His  boy.  Sh — dere!  Youse  kin 
sleep;  Tony'll  be  back — very  soon." 

Softly  he  stole  out  of  the  room.  At  the  end  of  the  hall 
he  paused  to  give  a  signal  whittle.  Immediately  Maggie, 
untidy  and  drooping,  opened  the  door. 

"  Say,"  Tony  lowered  his  voice,  "  keep  yer  eyes  on  de 
kid,  will  yer?" 

The  girl  nodded. 

"I'll  be  back  soon.  Say,  keep  yer  eyes  peeled.  See?" 

Maggie  seized  Tony's  arm  as  he  turned  to  go. 

"  Will  she  see  me,  d'yer  think,  the  teacher  yer  told  me 
'bout?" 

[27] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

The  boy  took  mental  inventory  of  the  girl's  appearance 
and  shook  his  head. 

"  Miss  Ellen,  she  ain't  stuck  on  dirt  none,  an'  yer  hair 
all  over  yer  face,  but  yer  got  er  nice  face,  an'  Miss  Ellen 
ain't  no  swell  wot'll  cut  yer.  Betcherlife !  She'll  talk  ter 
yer  'bout  de  inside  yer  white  room  I  telled  yer  of.  Gee ! 
It's  yer  dat  '11  t'ink  of  de  outside  after  she  gits  tru." 

Maggie's  blue  eyes  grew  large  with  childlike  appre 
hension. 

"  I  ain't  fit,  Tony,  I  ain't  good." 

"Aw,  Miss  Ellen,  she's  good  'nough  fer  two  of  yer. 
Anyway,  she'll  not  t'row  it  up  ter  yer.  Yer  see,  Maggie, 
Miss  Ellen,  she's  got  nex'ter  Him  an*  knows  His  game. 
He  sees  de  white  room  an'  I  don'  know  how,  but  yer  gits 
clean  outside  by  yerself,  widout  yer  know  it,  seems  like. 
I'll  tell  Miss  Ellen ;  she  loves  everybody.  So  long,  Maggie. 
Keep  yer  eyes  peeled." 

It  had  been  a  wonderful  week  to  Tony,  and  so  swift 
had  been  the  shifting  scenes  that  his  brain  whirled. 

The  great  change  in  his  inner  consciousness  had  created 
a  greater  change  in  his  outer  life,  in  his  associations  with 
the  tenement  people,  with  the  boys,  and  with  the  Li'les* 
Kid. 

Also,  unconsciously,  he  had  sought  the  cleansing  powers 
of  water  and  soap,  and  when  he  had  presented  himself 
before  Miss  Ellen  on  the  second  morning,  his  shiny  face 

[28] 


THE  WHITE  ROSE 

redolent  of  Mrs.  Murphy's  tub  water,  she  did  not  smile; 
instead,  she  introduced  him  to  the  Kindergarten  bathroom. 
Tony,  marveling  silently  at  the  "dishes  on  de  wall,'*  learned 
his  first  lesson  in  the  art  of  perfect  ablution. 

The  wonderful  week  had  but  one  discord.  At  Miss 
Ellen's  earnest  request,  Tony  had  brought  the  two  little 
brothers  to  her.  But  they  had  behaved  like  wild  animals, 
for  after  demoralizing  the  school  they  had  ignobly  fled, 
leaving  poor  Tony  mortified  and  inconsolable. 

"  Never  mind,  dear,  you  can  bring  the  Li'les'  Kid  to  me ; 
she  will  be  good,  I  am  sure,"  Miss  Ellen  comforted,  cheering 
the  boy  until  the  memory  of  the  event  had  faded  away 
into  the  misty  past. 

Tony's  mind  went  through  all  these  details  as  he  ran  to 
the  school. 

Miss  Ellen  cheerily  greeted  him  as  he  held  up  his  clean 
face  and  hands  for  her  inspection. 

"Clean  little  Tony!  Come  right  here  to  me — close." 
She  drew  him  up  to  her,  holding  him  in  the  shelter  of  her 
arm. 

"And,  dear,  how  is  the  little  white  room?"  Tony  shook 
his  head,  his  blue  eyes  wistfully  looking  up  into  her  deep 
brown  ones. 

"Aw,  it  ain't  busted  yet." 

"No?    Do  you  know  why?" 

The  boy  hung  his  head,  the  red  flush  dully  spreading 

[29] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

over  his  pale  face  and  to  his  neck.  Only  too  well  he  knew 
what  Miss  Ellen  meant. 

"  Oh,  Tony,  can't  you  forgive  ?  You,  a  little  boy,  who 
has  been  shown  love,  can't  you  forgive  some  one  who  has 
never  known  about ,the  white  room?" 

She  tried  to  study  the  expression  on  the  child's  face, 
but  his  head  was  averted.  She  sighed,  a  troubled  look  in 
her  eyes.  How  to  penetrate  the  armor  of  the  boy's  reserve 
and  sensitiveness  was  a  problem  which  sorely  puzzled  her. 
Once  he  had  grudgingly  admitted  that  his  father  had  been 
"sent  up."  But  any  allusion  to  the  mother  was  met  by 
Stubborn  silence.  However,  she  was  determined  to  break 
through  this  wall  of  reserve  and  compel  the  boy  to  recog 
nize  his  rightful  position  in  his  relationship  to  his  mother. 

"Tony,"  she  said  at  length,  as  she  turned  the  boy  around 
so  that  he  glood  facing  her,  "you  are  building  a  fence  all 
around  your  white  room  to  keep  the  little  boys  —  and  your 
mother — out.  Unless  you  forgive  them,  the  windows  and 
doors  will  never  fly  wide  open.  Hate  and  love  cannot  live 
together  in  the  same  room.  One  must  go." 

Tony  looked  Straight  at  her,  his  questioning  eyes  full  of 
growing  fear. 

"But — she  —  ain't  —  no  good,"  he  muttered. 

"  Oh,  my  dearest  boy,"  never  say  such  a  thing  again ! 
God  made  her,  and  when  she  was  a  little  baby  she  was  as 
good  as  your  Li'les'  Kid.  Oh,  Tony,  you  are  only  a  little 

[30] 


THE  WHITE  ROSE 

boy !  You  do  not  know  what  terrible  things  she  has  had 
in  her  life  to  make  her  what  she  is.  She  has  not  known 
of  God  or  love.  Tony,  you  will  never  say  such  a  thing 
again,  will  you  ?  " 

He  shyly  put  his  arm  about  the  girl,  seeing  her  brown 
eyes  full  of  tears. 

"Aw,  Miss  Ellen,  I  won't,  but  yer  don'  know.  Jes  de 
same,  I'll  try.  Mebbe  I'll  let  her  peek  in  tru  de  fence  till  I 
git  us'd  ter  her.  De  li'le  boys  kin  come  inter  de  yard  some." 
Tony  wondered  at  the  choking  sensations  in  his  throat 
and  even  in  his  heart  as  he  hastily  rubbed  his  eyes. 

Miss  Ellen  hugged  the  boy  tightly  to  her.  He  little 
knew  that  the  tears  were  for  him  and  for  the  sorrow  which 
had  cast  its  blight  upon  his  soul. 

"Say,  Miss  Ellen,  I  can't  stay  dis  mornin*.  I  jes  come 
'cause — oh,  'cause — it  rests  er  feller  ter  talk  ter  yer — de 
tired  feelin'  in  de  white  room.  Say,  it  makes  me  sort  o* 
feel  nex'  ter  Him  ter  talk  ter  yer,  Miss  Ellen." 

The  girl,  speechless  and  heartful,  suddenly  bent  down 
and  kissed  the  boy  on  his  pale  cheek.  Tony  stood  still, 
the  red  again  flooding  his  throat  and  brow,  the  choking 
sensation  creeping  back  into  his  throat.  Not  ungently  he 
pushed  her  from  him,  and  with  stumbling  steps  turned 
away. 

"Aw,  cut  it,"  he  said  huskily,  "I  ain't  —  no  kid." 

He  wondered,  troubled,  at  the  turmoil  within  him  as  he 

[31] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

walked  over  to  the  window.  This  first  kiss  had  aroused 
in  his  mind  the  memory  of  another  just  such  a  kiss  which 
had  come  to  him  in  the  long  ago — his  dreams,  as  he 
called  those  hazy  pictures  of  the  past. 

"  Tony."  He  turned  to  face  Miss  Ellen,  and  saw  in  her 
hand  a  flower,  a  rose,  a  white  rose.  In  an  instant  his  eyes 
were  alight. 

"Gee,  it's  de  real  t'ing,  fer  sure!" 

"  Yes,  my  Tony,  it  is  for  you." 

"Fer  me?   Fer  me  ter  take  ter  de  tenerment?" 

"Yes,  dear,  to  show  to  all  your  friends, —  to  Maggie, 
whom  you  must  bring  to  me;  to  Mrs.  Murphy — and  to 
your — mother." 

She  gave  the  rose  to  Tony,  placing  it  first  in  a  slender 
glass  vase.  Holding  it  in  his  hand,  he  gazed  wonderingly 
at  the  exquisite  whiteness  of  its  satin  petals. 

"An*  yer  sed  His  house  hed  nicer  an*  whiter  ones  dan 
dis?"  He  looked  up  incredulously. 

"Yes,  Tony." 

"An*  love  is  purtier  dan  er  rose,  an*  His  love  purtier  dan 
er  yard  full  of  roses."  He  mused  for  a  moment,  then  turned 
to  Miss  Ellen.  "Say,  Miss  Ellen,  I  gotter  go  back.  Yer 
knows  how  I  feels  'bout  dis.  An',  say,  Miss  Ellen,  I  does 
love  yer  ter  beat  de  band,  an' — say — mebbe  de  fence '11 
bust  down  —  some  day." 

The  young  teacher  watched  him  as  he  trudged  down 

[32] 


THE  WHITE  ROSE 

the  Street  With  him  and  even  preceding  him,  loving 
thoughts  had  reached  the  tenement  to  make  his  day  a 
bright  and  happy  one. 

Tony  Stole  into  the  empty  room  once  more,  his  eyes 
glowing  excitedly.  Placing  the  rose  on  an  upturned  box 
where  the  sunlight  could  fall  upon  it,  he  hurried  into 
Maggie's  room  for  the  baby. 

"Say,  give  me  der  kid,  an'  say,  Maggie,  in  jes  'bout  ten 
minutes  yer  kin  come  an*  see  wot  I  brung  from  Miss  Ellen." 

Before  the  girl  had  fully  grasped  Tony's  mysterious 
message,  he  had  vanished. 

Triumphantly  the  boy  held  up  the  one  treasure  in  his 
possession,  so  that  the  baby  eyes  might  fully  behold  the 
wondrous  rose. 

"See,  Li'les'  Kid,  d'yer  see?  Dat's  de  dope — de  rose 
dat  Tony's  been  tellin'  yer  'bout." 

The  two  wee  hands  went  out  in  joyful  appreciation. 

"Gee,"  muttered  the  boy,  "  wusht  youse  wuz  clean  like 
it,  an'  de  room,  too.  I  never  seed  sech  dirt  before." 

He  looked  about  the  chaotic  apartment,  the  uncleanli- 
ness  affecting  his  senses  as  it  had  never  before. 

"  Gee,  ef  dat  rose  is  ter  live  in  dis  place,  I'll  hev  ter  git 
busy  an'  clean  de  room,  fer  sure.  De  rose  looked  whiter 
in  Miss  Ellen's  room." 

With  Tony,  action  followed  abruptly  on  the  heel  of  de 
cision.  In  less  time  than  one  could  consider  possible,  he 

[33] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

had  borrowed  a  broom  and  was  wielding  it  awkwardly, 
yet  energetically,  and  to  some  purpose. 

The  volume  of  dust  puzzled  him.  "  Gee,  de  rose  can't 
stan'  dis,  nor  de  kid  neder." 

He  thought  for  a  moment,  then  pulled  out  rags  and 
paper  from  the  windows,  and,  after  hiding  the  babe  under 
the  bed-covers  and  placing  the  rose  in  a  covered  box,  he 
calmly  proceeded  to  finish  his  task,  despite  the  screams  of 
rage  which  proceeded  violently  from  under  the  ragged  quilt. 

"  Never  min',  Li'les'  Kid,  youse  gotter  yell,  'cause  dis 
room  jes  hez  ter  be  clean." 

Suddenly  the  door  burst  open  and  a  neighbor's  voice 
called  out  through  the  cloud  of  thick  dust  : 

"Wot  yer  a-doin',  Tony?  Don't  yer  know,  yer  fool  kid, 
dat  ye'll  ketch  cold  'thout  no  dirt?" 

Tony,  never  Stopping,  yelled  out  good-naturedly  : 

"Aw,  shet  up.   We're  goin'  ter  be  clean  in  dis  room." 

"Yer  ain't  got  no  sense,  kid,"  came  from  another. 

"  It's  dirt  wot  keeps  yer  warm." 

"Say,"  —  a  third  complaint  —  "you'll  get  sick,  sure." 

The  boy  shrugged  his  thin  shoulders  and  swept  on. 
Some  one  coughed. 

"  Say,  yer  darn  kid,  quit  it.  It  's  makin'  me  sick  already." 

"  Den  go  back  ter  yer  own  place  an*  lemme  be.  Say,"  — 
Tony  paused  —  "I'll  let  yer  in  ter  see  de  show  ef  ye'll  go 


now." 


[34] 


Silently,  one  by  one,  they  stared  at  the  white  blossom. 


THE  WHITE  ROSE 

After  considerable  discussion  on  the  part  of  the  audi 
ence,  some  one  admonished  tadfully: 

"Aw,  let  the  kid  be." 

"Yes,  't  ain't  none  of  our  bizness,"  grudgingly  acknowl 
edged  another. 

However,  in  less  time  than  ten  minutes  every  woman 
and  child  in  the  tenement  knew  of  the  clean  room,  and 
more  than  a  dozen  curious  eyes  followed  Maggie  to  the 
door  with  envious  expectancy. 

With  a  half-frightened  expression,  Maggie  confronted 
the  white  rose  and  the  excited  boy,  while  the  baby  laughed 
and  crowed  in  Tony's  arms. 

"  Miss  Ellen,  she  give  it  ter  me,"  he  whispered  proudly. 

Maggie  dropped  down  on  the  floor  in  front  of  the  box 
while  Tony  held  the  door  wide  open  for  the  impatient 
neighbors  who  came  crowding  in. 

Silently,  one  by  one,  they  glared  at  the  white  blossom. 
They  saw  the  changed  room,  the  crouching  girl,  the  boy 
and  the  babe,  and  with  awe  on  their  faces  they  gtole  away. 

The  day  drifted  into  late  afternoon.  When  the  last  rays 
of  sun  fell  into  the  bare  room,  they  rented  upon  the  figure 
of  a  woman  whose  life  lay  written  upon  her  haggard  face 
and  shrinking  form. 

With  her  hands  clasped  before  her,  sobs  shaking  her 
breast,  her  eyes  full  of  despair,  she  glood  before  the  rude 
box. 

[35] 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  SERMON  OF  THE  ROSE 

SilATED  in  her  disorderly  kitchen,  with  her  ample 
feet  displayed  on  the  glove  and  her  mind  divided 
between  the  Police  Gazette  and  a  subtile  premon 
ition  of  some  mysterious  force  at  work  of  which 
she  was  ignorant,  Mrs.  Murphy  weighed   both 
curiosity  and  literature  carefully  in  the  scale  of  her  inclina 
tions  and  chose  the  former. 

Consequently,  with  a  superb  disregard  for  the  confusion 
about  her,  she  set  forth  on  her  tour  of  investigation.  Nor 
did  she  have  far  to  go. 

An  epidemic  of  house-cleaning  had  broken  out  in  the 
tenement.  From  every  door,  every  window,  there  poured 
a  dusty  forerunner  of  the  cleanliness  that  was  to  come. 

She  soon  learned  of  Tony's  clean  room  and  of  a  rose 
which  some  wonderful,  mysterious  person  had  given  him 
the  day  before. 

Mrs.  Murphy  gasped  in  amazement  and  forthwith  hur- 

[36] 


THE  SERMON  OF  THE  ROSE 

ried  to  Tony's  room  where  she  found  the  boy  busily 
washing  the  baby. 

"Hello,  Murphy,  come  on  in  an'  set  down.  Me  an'  de 
Li'les'  Kid  wuz  er  comin'  ter  tell  yer  all  'bout  de  rose  an* 
de  show.  Had  n'  time  ter  tell  yer  las'  night." 

The  Irishwoman  sat  down  heavily,  and  for  the  first  time 
in  her  voluble  life  was  speechless.  She  saw  that  the  barren 
room  was  spotless  and  that  even  the  windows  were  clean. 
She  watched  the  boy  curiously  as  he  dressed  the  wriggly 
bit  of  humanity.  She  glared  at  the  rose,  still  bravely  holding 
its  own. 

After  the  lapse  of  a  few  minutes,  during  which  time  she 
had  furtively  and  repeatedly  wiped  her  eyes,  she  broke  out: 

"Aye,  an'  'tis  the  luck  thet's  been  give  ter  yez,  Oi'm 
a-thinkin',  Tony,  me  b'y.  Och,  an'  the  rose!  'Tis  it  as 
makes  me  think  of  the  auld  counthry.  Me  mither's  house 
had  'em  growin'  forninst  the  shed.  Aye,  it's  a  sad  day  Oi 
married  the  divil  of  a  Pathrick,  say  Oi." 

And  as  she  wept,  she  rocked  herself  to  and  fro  to  the 
detriment  of  the  old  rocker. 

"An*  who  did  yer  say  wuz  after  a-givin'  yez  the  rose, 
Tony?"  Mrs.  Murphy  leaned  forward  expectantly  and  was 
much  taken  aback  by  the  direct  reply. 

"  Miss  Ellen,  de  teacher  up  to  de  school."  The  baby, 
fully  dressed,  was  held  up  for  critical  inspection.  Tony, 
humming  a  snatch  of  a  Kindergarten  song,  smiled  happily. 

[37] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

Mrs.  Murphy  pondered. 

"Aye,  an'  'tis  a  grand  Oirish  name  that,  Ellen.  D'yez 
be  thinkin*  she's  Oirish,  lad?  No?  'Tis  de  Oirish  dat  hez 
de  big  hearts,  b'y.  An'  is  it  flowers  she  do  be  givin'  away 
in  her  school,  Tony?" 

"  Nope,  she  gives  away  love,  an* — " 

"  Don't  say  nothin'  till  I  come,  Tony,"  called  out  Maggie, 
thrusting  her  head  in  the  doorway  and  anxiously  scanning 
the  two.  "Hev  yer  told  anything?"  she  asked  as  she 
joined  them  a  moment  later. 

"  Nope."  Tony  looked  up  and  then  grinned.  "Gee !  look, 
Murphy,  ef  she  ain't  gone  an'  got  de  wad  offn  her  block. 
Say,  ain't  yer  de  peach  now?" 

Maggie,  taking  the  baby,  blushed  at  the  unexpected 
compliment.  But  Mrs.  Murphy  had  not  come  to  discuss 
hair-dressing.  No,  she  was  bent  on  knowing  the  secret  of 
Tony's  good  fortune,  and  he  certainly  had  not,  as  yet,  given 
any  reasonable  or  sane  explanation  of  the  problem. 

"An"tis  love  she  do  be  givin'  away,  is  it?  Pooh!  de 
divil— " 

"Aw,  yer  don'  know  'bout  Miss  Ellen's  kin*  o*  love.  She 
ain't  got  none  of  yer  tenerment  kin*,  yer  bet  she  ain't! 
She's  got  de  real  dope,  an'  it's  nothin'  yer  ever  heerd  'bout, 
dat's  a  cinch." 

"  Say,  Tony,"  pleaded  Maggie,  rising  and  giving  the  baby 
back  to  him, "  wait ;  don't  tell  Murphy  till  I  gets  ole  Granny 

[38] 


THE  SERMON  OF  THE  ROSE 

Flaherty.  She 's  asked  ter  hear  yer  tell  'bout  the  white  room 
an* — Him.  I  tried  to  tell  her,  but  I  don't  know  how.  Will 
yer  wait?" 

"  Sure,  Mike ! "  Tony  replied  shyly. 

The  girl  flew,  and  in  a  short  time  reappeared,  bringing 
not  only  old  Granny  Flaherty,  but  blind  Peter  Dolan; 
Jonesy,  the  seamstress ;  and  Isaac,  a  deformed  boy. 

Tony,  somewhat  abashed  by  his  sudden  notoriety,  clung 
to  the  babe  in  his  arms,  vaguely  wondering  how  to  begin. 

Mrs.  Murphy  characteristically  broke  the  ice. 

"An*  phwat  koind  of  a  teacher  is  it  that's  after  a-givin* 
away  roses  an' —  love  ?  " 

She  jerked  the  last  word  out  with  scorn,  her  Irish  nose 
skeptically  elevated,  her  arms  defiantly  folded. 

Tony  smiled  absently.  He  knew  the  depths  of  Mrs. 
Murphy's  heart. 

"  Aw,  Miss  Ellen 's  all  right !  She 's  de  real  t'ing ;  nothin* 
bogus  'bout  her.  She's  got  real  hair,  too."  Grinning,  he 
glanced  at  the  transformed  Maggie,  who  blushed  furiously. 

"Onct,  she  telled'bout  er  kid  wot  lived  same's  we,  an' 
he  had  er  white  room  same's  we  got.  Dat's  yer  heart, 
yer  know — de  white  room  is.  An*  onct  he  found  er  yard 
of  roses  an'  he  picked  one  an*  Stuck  it  inter  his  white  room 
wot  wuz  dark  an'  empty.  An',  gee !  de  rose  —  it  means 
love  —  it  buSted  everything  wide  open,  an*  de  love  lived 
dere  an'  made  him  good. 

[39] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

"  Love  is  wot  done  it,  yer  see.  When  yer  gits  yer  white 
room  full  of  it,  de  real  dope,  den  yer  t'inks  it,  an'  when  yer 
t'inks  it,  yer  jes  lives  it.  See?  Wot*s  inside  yer,  gits  out 
in  wot  yer  does  an*  says.  Seems 's  if  yer  can't  help  yer- 
self  none ;  it  jes  comes." 

Tony  gazed  thoughtfully  at  the  rose.  "I  tells  yer,"  he 
went  on,  forgetting  his  guests,  so  absorbed  was  he  in  the 
vision  uppermost  in  his  mind,  "we  all  ain't  been  learned 
to  t'ink  right;  we're  all  off,  but  we  ain't  ter  blame  none. 
We  don'  know  'bout  white  rooms  an'  white  roses.  We  jes 
sass  an'  cuss  an'  swat  de  feller  wot  ain't  onter  our  game. 
Dunno  how  'tis,  I  jes  know  'tis,  dat's  all." 

Mrs.  Murphy  sat  upright,  eyeing  the  boy  carefully. 

"An'  where  do  we  be  after  a-learnin' — of  dis  love,  say 
Oi.  'Tis  not  in  er  tiniment  Oi'll  be  after  a-thinkin';  it 
wouldn't  be  no  go  here.  'Tis  the  fists  that  does  the  job 
of  settlin'.  Phwat  say  yez,  Jonesy?  Ain't  it  a  divil  of  a 
yarn  de  kid's  been  givin'  us?" 

Jonesy  shook  her  weary  head,  folding  her  seldom  idle 
hands  luxuriously.  "The  sound  of  it  is  good  ter  me, 
Murphy,"  she  answered  slowly. 

"Aye,  an'  ter  me,  begorra,  but  phwat  Oi'm  a-thinkin' 
is,  where  do  yez  be  gittin'  hold  of  dis  love,  dis  new 

1    *       »  -v  »» 

km  ? 

Tony  rummaged  in  his  ragged  pockets  and  brought 
forth  from  their  depths  a  bit  of  paper. 

[40] 


"An' she  wrote  dis,  too.    L~o-v-e,  dat's  love, 
love.    Dai 's  wot  He  is,  see  P  " 


God  is 


THE  SERMON  OF  THE  ROSE 

"It's  wrote  on  dis.  Miss  Ellen,  she  learned  me  how  ter 
spell  it.  G-o-d,  God." 

He  held  up  the  paper  so  that  his  visitors  could  see.  Mrs. 
Murphy  crossed  herself  hurriedly,  while  Maggie  leaned 
hungrily  forward.  "An*  she  wrote  dis,  too.  L-o-v-e,  dat's 
love.  God  is  love.  Dat's  wot  He  is,  see?" 

The  silence  was  profound  as  the  simple  sentence  sank 
deep  into  the  eager  souls  of  the  listeners. 

The  babe  began  to  droop  sleepily,  and  Tony  swayed  to 
and  fro. 

"Yep,  an'  'tis  His  love  wot  Miss  Ellen  tells  of,  an'  when 
yer  gits  it  inter  yer  hearts,  an'  gits  it  right,  yer  kin  t'ink 
right,  an'  yer  loves  everybody  an'  people  wot  does  yer 
dirt,  an*  Dagoes  an*  Chinks." 

"  Tell  'bout  de  boy,"  eagerly  whispered  Maggie,  touching 
Tony's  arm. 

He  smiled  gently.  Somehow  Maggie's  sad  life  and  her 
need  had  found  an  answering  chord  in  his  own  desolate 
existence. 

"Gee!"  The  word  fell  caressingly  from  his  lips,  and  a 
soft  light  shone  in  his  blue  eyes. 

The  girl  prodded  him  once  more.  "Tell  of  the  baby,  an' 
the  gtar,  yer  know."  Her  own  eyes  were  glowing  as  she 
leaned  forward  on  the  floor,  her  arms  clasped  about  her 
knees,  her  lips  apart  and  her  slight  form  trembling  with 
excitement. 

[41] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

So,  holding  his  baby  sister  in  his  arms,  and  facing  the 
strange,  uncouth  audience,  the  little  lad  of  the  tenement 
led,  his  guests  back  to  the  first  Christmas  night,  to  the 
stable  and  to  the  Child  of  Bethlehem. 

After  a  brief  silence  Isaac  sighed  wistfully,  "It's  very 
beautiful,  but  it  ain't  fer  us,  is  it,  Tony?" 

Tony  reflected. 

"  Ye-es ;  Miss  Ellen,  she  sed,  if  we  b'lieved  an'  knowed, 
it  is  ourn,  an*  if  we  love  an*  gits  onter  His  game  of  lovin', 
we  gits  ter  be  jes  like — "  he  looked  down  at  the  sleeping 
babe  cradled  so  close  to  his  heart,  and  a  smile  of  infinite 
tenderness  came  into  his  thin  little  face — "jes  like  de 
Li'les'  Kid,"  he  added  softly. 

Maggie  led  her  friends  out  of  the  room.  Only  Mrs. 
Murphy  remained,  her  abnormal  curiosity  not  yet  having 
been  gratified. 

She  Glared  hard  at  the  rose,  and  with  some  awe  at  Tony. 
Was  this  the  boy  who,  only  two  weeks  ago,  had  come  to 
her  door  asking  of  love?  She  shook  her  head. 

"Aye,  lad,  an'  the  divil  may  fly  away  wid  me  ef  it  ain't 
a  quare  thing  how  luck  comes  ter  sum.  Sure,  an'  't  is  yez 
thet  orter  be  after  a-havin'  it  all,  Tony,  me  b'y,  yez  are  thet 
foine." 

Tony  smiled  thoughtfully.  His  belief  in  the  possibilities 
of  Luck  was  vague,  but  swiftly  there  arose  the  picture  of 
the  girlish  teacher,  as  she  gtood  before  him  yesterday, 

[42] 


THE  SERMON  OF  THE  ROSE 

the  white  rose  in  her  hand,  and  in  her  eyes  the  reflection 
of  the  secret  for  which  Tony  so  hungrily  longed. 

"An*  He  sez,  sez  He,  thot  yez  must  be  after  a-forgivin' 
folks  —  loike  yer  ma?"  The  Irishwoman  eyed  Tony  nar 
rowly. 

He  carried  the  child  to  the  mattress,  covered  her  with 
the  old  shawl,  then  turned  to  the  box,  gazing  down  into 
the  folded  heart  of  the  rose. 

"Yes."  He  answered  slowly  and  thoughtfully.  Mrs. 
Murphy  was  bewildered,  but  she  had  always  respected 
Tony's  reserve,  so,  rising,  she  kindly  asked : 

"An*  when  are  yez  to  be  seein'  the  teacher  wid  the 
darlin'  Oirish  name?" 

Tony's  face  lit  up  instantly. 

"  Gee !  Mos'  forgot.  Me  an'  de  Kid  here,  de  Li'les*  Kid, 
is  er  goin'  ter-day,  an'  Miss  Ellen,  she's  goin'  ter  learn  me 
jes  how  ter  keep  de  Kid  clean.  An',  Murphy" — Tony 
caught  hold  of  his  visitor's  scant  skirt — "  Miss  Ellen,  she's 
er  goin'  ter  give  her  some  li'le  dresses." 

"Aye,  an' ain't  Oi  been  a-tellin' yez  thot  luck's  comin', 
Tony?  An'  'tis  yez  thot '11  be  gittin'  go  swell  thot's  Mur 
phy  thot  yez  will  not  be  wantin*  ter  see."  There  was  a 
note  of  anxiety  in  the  hearty  voice  which  did  not  escape 
the  boy. 

With  a  gentleness  before  unknown  to  him,  he  Stroked 
Mrs.  Murphy's  rough  red  hand. 

[43] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

"Nope,  Murphy.  Me  an'  de  Li'les'  Kid '11  allus  love  yer; 
an'  some  day  yer  will  learn  how  ter  love  right  yerself .  Yer 
kin  go  ter  Miss  Ellen ;  she  hez  it  all  in  her,  an'  His  love, 
too.  Miss  Ellen,  she'll  learn  yer  how  ter  love  Pat — ef  yer 
want.  Say,  Murphy,"  Tony  came  up  to  the  woman  as  she 
3tood  on  the  threshold, "  Yer  kin  say  dis, '  God  is  love.' 
Gee!  jes  a-t'inkin*  it  makes  a  feller's  day  nicer." 


[44] 


CHAPTER  V 

"DE  LI'LES'  KID" 

WITH  his  usual  cheery  "'Lo  dere,  Miss  Ellen, 
I  brung  her,"  Tony  placed  the  open-eyed 
baby  in  the  teacher's  outstretched  arms. 
She  held  the  little  one  closely  to  her  while 
the  tears  started  to  her  eyes  as  she  saw  the 
pitiful  attempt  the  lad  had  made  to  care  for  the  little  one. 
"  Oh,  Tony,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  brought  her  to  me ! 
Isn't  she  cute  and  dear?" 

"Yep,  an*  see  her  li'le  han's,  Miss  Ellen;  dey's  so  sof 
an*  purty — jes  like  yourn." 

The  baby  gurgled  and  crowed  as  she  pulled  at  Miss 
Ellen's  apron. 

"Tony,  you  are  a  very  wonderful  boy,  to  keep  her  so 
clean  and  nice."  He  beamed  as  he  followed  into  the  warm 
bathroom. 

The  next  hour  was  one  of  revelation.  And  when  the 
baby,  his  Li'les'  Kid,  lay  in  Miss  Ellen's  lap,  spotless,  and 

[45] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

completely  transformed  by  the  new  clothes,  Tony  was 
speechless,  moved  to  the  verge  of  tears. 

In  the  sunny  Kindergarten  room,  the  wee  girl  in  her 
arms,  Miss  Ellen  turned  to  the  silent  boy  who  glood  re 
garding  both  of  his  dearest  possessions  with  an  expression 
of  sadness,  too  old,  but  too  habitual,  for  his  child-face  to 
bear. 

"What  is  it,  Tony?"  she  asked  softly. 

"Nawthin',  only  I  wusht  she  could  allus  look  dis  way. 
She's  jes  made  ter  be  loved  an'  ter  be  clean.  Gee !  Here's 
where  I  gits  busy  an'  looks  fer  a  job  where  I  kin  make  de 
dough." 

Miss  Ellen  held  out  her  other  arm,  and,  drawing  the  boy 
to  her,  talked  at  length  to  him,  trying  to  make  this  man- 
child  forget. 

Over  the  desk  hung  a  copy  of  the  beautiful  Madonna 
of  the  Workshop.  Tony's  restless  eyes  fell  upon  it,  then 
upon  the  girl  with  the  babe  in  her  arms,  and  the  far-away 
light  in  her  dark  eyes. 

Pointing  to  the  picture,  he  whispered:  "Say,  yer  jes 
looks  like  Her — an'  de  Li'les*  Kid  like  Him." 

An  hour  later  Tony  proudly  carried  the  newly  arrayed 
infant  about  the  tenement  and  to  Mrs.  Murphy,  who  criti 
cally  examined  each  tiny  garment,  speculating  wildly  on 
the  probable  cost  of  the  outfit. 

He  returned  to  his  own  room.  In  his  excitement  he  left 

[46] 


Pointing  to  the  picture,  he  whispered: 
Say,  yer  jes  looks  //£e  Her—an'de  Li'les'  Kid 
like  Him. " 


"DE  LI'LES'KID" 

the  babe  crowing  and  laughing  on  the  bed.  In  his  anxiety 
to  tell  Maggie  of  his  afternoon  talk,  he  forgot  to  watch  the 
door. 

When  he  returned  he  saw  to  his  horror  that  some  one 
had  entered  the  room,  the  one  whom  he  so  intensely 
dreaded  and  hated.  She — was  bending  over  the  babe. 

Tony  stood  still,  vague  emotions  struggling  within  him. 
The  child,  frightened,  gave  a  little  whimper.  Instantly  the 
motherhood  of  the  boy  was  aroused.  Springing  forward, 
he  snatched  the  infant  from  the  bed,  not  heeding  the  sor 
rowful  glances  that  followed  him.  Gathering  the  tiny, 
trembling  form  to  him,  and  crooning  softly,  Tony  left  the 
room. 


[47] 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  BROTHER 

THE  two  little  boys  in  the  early  sunlight  sat  on  a 
pile  of  old  boxes,  watching  the  gymnastics  of 
Danny  Mulligan,  who,  with  true  epicurean  joy, 
was  endeavoring  to  lick  a  liberal  supply  of  mo 
lasses  from  his  freckled  face  by  means  of  a  very 
nimble  tongue. 

So  engrossed  were  they  in  their  envious  jeering  that 
they  did  not  heed  Tony,  who  had  been  calling  to  them. 
"  Hi,  dere,  yer  kids !   Can't  youse  hear  me  ?   Come,  git 
yer  breakus ! " 

They  scampered  in  all  haste  to  where  their  brother 
wearily  waited. 

Tony,  pale  and  heavy-eyed,  hurried  them  to  the  bake- 
shop  where,  before  entering,  with  suspicion  born  of  experi 
ence,  he  asked,  "  Hed  nothin'  ter  eat?" 
"Nope" 
"  He  hed  an  orange  wot  he  swiped,  he  did."  The  smaller 

[48] 


Danny  Mulligan,  with  true  epicurean  joy,  Was 

endeavoring  to  licfy  a  liberal  supply  of  molasses  from  his  freckled 

face  by  means  of  a  very  nimble  tongue. 


A  BROTHER 

boy  grinned  maliciously.  The  other  pounced  upon  him, 
and  with  a  few  well-directed  and  skilfully  avoided  blows, 

screamed  angrily:  "Aw, ,  yer  darn  fool  kid. 

Allus  a-snitchin'." 

Tony  sighed  as  he  watched  them.  Slowly  a  new  thought 
entered  his  head. 

"Say,  I  ain't  sure  but  youse  hed  better  cut  out  dem  kin' 
o'  words.  Gee !  I  jes  b'lieve  dat  dey  ain't  nothin'  He'd  hear 
us  say,  nor  Miss  Ellen ;  she  ain't  stuck  on  'em.  Say,  yer 
kids,  jes  cut  it,  d'yer  hear?"  he  added  clinchingly,  as  the 
thought  grew  into  conviction. 

The  boys  stared,  but  this  new  Tony  was  not  one  whom 
they  dared  to  disobey;  so,  silently  they  waited  while  he 
purchased  and  divided  equally  between  the  two  ravenous 
youngsters  a  half-dozen  buns.  Like  hungry  animals  they 
fell  upon  the  speckled,  shiny  buns,  and  devoured  them  in 
less  than  a  moment, — so  it  seemed  to  the  hungry  watcher. 

The  night  had  been  a  hard  one  for  Tony,  for  the  room 
had  had  one  other  occupant,  the  one  whose  coming  meant 
trouble,  and  whose  staying  all  night  ofttimes  meant  a  long 
and  watchful  vigil.  On  such  occasions  the  Li'les'  Kid 
never  left  the  boy's  arms. 

He  thought  of  his  night  with  increasing  bitterness  as  he 
silently  regarded  his  two  little  brothers. 

"Aw,  dey's  nothin'  but  kids,  jes  li'le  boy  kids.  Dey  ain't 
hed  no  chanst,  dey  ain't  — " 

[49] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

A  sudden  longing  filled  him,  a  longing  to  rid  himself  of 
all  these  burdens.  His  responsibility  for  the  two  souls  be 
fore  him  weighed  him  down  oppressively. 

"Aw,  de  Li'les*  Kid,  she's  'nough,"  he  muttered  argu- 
mentatively. 

Something  of  the  struggle  within  must  have  been  mani 
fest  on  his  face,  for  the  youngest  boy,  who  had  been  closely 
and  shrewdly  eyeing  him,  held  out  a  bit  of  his  bun. 

"  Say,  Tony,  youse  kin  hev  dis,  ef  yer  want." 

Touched  by  the  unheard-of  act  and  thought,  Tony 
looked  down  upon  him. 

"  Nope,  kiddo,"  he  mumbled  brokenly,  "I  ain't  so  hungry. 
Yer  kin  eat  it." 

He  turned  to  go ;  the  older  boy  clutched  his  sleeve,  ask 
ing  in  a  whisper : "  Is  " —  pointing  to  their  room  — "  sleep  ?  " 

"Yep.  Yer  kids  play  out.  Til  be  back  soon  an'  den  we'll 
go  to  de  park,  mebbe.  Keep  shy  an'  don'  yer  go  er  swearin' 


*» 

none. 


With  his  heart  full  of  rebellion,  Tony  hurried  to  Miss 
Ellen.  The  sight  of  his  sworn  foe,  Mike  Casey,  Standing 
on  the  curbstone,  sent  quivers  of  hate  through  his  much 
disturbed  mind. 

"Why,  my  blessed  boy !"  exclaimed  Miss  Ellen,  as  she 
saw  him, "what  is  the  matter,  dear?  Are  you  sick?  No?" 
She  looked  at  Tony  sharply,  keenly,  then  nodded  briskly 
to  herself. 

[50] 


A  BROTHER 

"Tony,  you  are  just  in  time  to  eat  lunch  with  me.  Oh, 
yes,  you  must.  And  to  think  that  we  are  to  have  each 
other's  company,  and  are  to  eat  the  good  things  that  are 
in  my  lunch-basket ! " 

She  disappeared,  leaving  the  boy  scarlet  and  shame-faced, 
helplessly  waiting.  How  did  she  know?  he  wondered. 

Miss  Ellen  returned  with  not  only  one  but  three  lunch- 
baskets.  Obviously  she  had  been  on  a  foraging  expedition, 
but  Tony  did  not  question. 

The  low  tables  were  quickly  spread. 

"  Come,  Tony,  you  are  to  be  my  guest  of  honor.  We  can 
learn  our  lessons  later/* 

Miss  Ellen  marveled  that  the  boy,  half  Starved  though  he 
was,  should  eat  so  slowly  and  silently ;  yet  he  did  not  once 
refuse  whatever  she  placed  before  him.  She  more  than  sus 
pected  the  long  night's  vigil,  for  Maggie  had  been  to  see  her. 

Luncheon  over,  and  the  lessons  finished,  Tony  leaned 
toward  Miss  Ellen  and,  with  sad,  pleading  eyes,  said 
slowly:  "Miss  Ellen, 't  ain't  no  use.  De  white  room  ain't 
never  goin'  ter  bust.  Dey's  too  much  of — hate  dere." 

Silence  for  a  moment,  then  Miss  Ellen's  voice,  earnest, 
decisive:  "Need  there  be  any  hate,  Tony?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  Dere  is,  an*  I  wants  ter  git  away  off  f r'm  it,  an'  take  de 
Li'les'  Kid,  an*  git  a  job  some  'eres.  Does  yer  know  ef  I 
kin  git  er  job?" 

[51] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

The  teacher  turned  away  her  head.  She  could  not  bear 
the  look  in  those  blue  eyes.  "What  of  your  mother  and 
the  little  boys — your  brothers?" 

"Aw,  dey's — "he  Stopped,  the  episode  of  the  bun  re 
curring  to  him.  He  silently  rose  and  Strode  unevenly  to 
the  window. 

"Tony,  have  you  asked  God  to  take  the  hate  away?" 

"Nope,"  sorrowfully. 

"Have  you  ever  tried  to  think  love  toward  the  boys 
and — your  mother?" 

"  I  dunno,  Miss  Ellen,  dey  ain't  all  de  time  hate  as  it 
use'ter  be,  jes  till — las'  night."  He  paused,  the  weary  old 
look  creeping  into  his  face. 

"I  tells  yer,  sometimes  I  t'ink  de  kids  ain't  ter  blame 
none.  Dey  don'  know  'bout  de  white  room.  Mebbe  I  '11 
git  busy  an*  tell  *em."  He  moved  toward  the  girl,  every 
motion  of  his  tired  little  body  an  appeal. 

"It's  de  hate — I  ain't  game,  Miss  Ellen,  an'  it  ain't  jes  — 
her — but  it's  Mike  Casey,  too.  Use'ter  be  thet  I  jes  wanted 
ter  kill  him — I  hated  him  so.  He  allus  laffs  at  me,  an' 
ondt  I  hit  him  er  swat  wid  er  rock — long 'go."  He  hung 
his  head  shamefacedly. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  but  now  that  you  know  better,  you  are 
going  to  try  to  forgive  him.  You  see,  he  does  not  know 
of  the  white  room  nor  of  the  white  rose ;  he  has  no  beau 
tiful  thoughts  to  make  him  think  right.  He  is  just  another 

[52] 


A  BROTHER 

weak  brother  for  us  to  love  and  to  forgive  and  to  feel 
sorry  for." 

"Him  a  brother?  Aw,  don'  kid  er  feller." 

Miss  Ellen  smiled  in  spite  of  herself,  his  scorn  was  so 
genuine. 

"  Why,  yes,  Tony.  God  is  the  Father  of  us  all,  so  that 
makes  us  all  brothers.  You  are  my  dear  little  brother  and 
I  am  your  sifter.  Isn't  that  beautiful?" 

"Yep — de  siller  part  is,  but,  gee !  Mike  Casey — he's  a 
fat  lobster,  dat's  wot  he  is!" 

Tony  sat  down  on  one  of  the  little  chairs.  "Say,  d'yer 
know,  I  wuz  er  waitin*  till  I  git  big  'nough,  den  I  wuz  er 
goin*  ter  lick  him,  an*  now  yer  tells  me  I  jes  gotter  love  him 
an'  call  him — brother." 

He  rose  suddenly  and  £lood  before  the  teacher,  slipping 
his  fingers  nervously  into  her  warm,  white  hands,  and 
with  a  half-despairing  apathy  which  Struck  her  to  the 
heart,  he  added : 

"  It 's  tough,  Miss  Ellen ;  de  li'le  feller  loves  an'  forgives 
an*  de  big  guy  does  yer  dirt ;  it  ain't  fair,  seems  ter  me. 
Does  He  want  us  to?" 

"That  is  what  He  did  himself — forgave  those  who 
were  cruel  to  Him.  Tony,  you  want  your  white  room  full, 
don't  you?  Of  course;  well,  you  have  shut  out  your 
mother  and  have  allowed  bitter  thoughts  of  Mike  Casey 
to  come  into  your  room.  It  is  a  hard  duty,  but  you  are  a 

[53] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

brave  boy — you  can  forgive  if  you  only  make  up  your 
mind.  Think  a  moment — what  a  difference  it  would  make 
in  your  life ;  you  could  teach  your  brothers  and  the  Li'les' 
Kid  ever  so  much  better,  with  your  heart  full  of  love." 

"Aw,  gee!  I  knows  it,  an*  I  wants  it,  but  it's  tough  jes 
de  same.  He  gits  de  dough  an*  de  love  —  wot  does  I  git?" 

"A  full  white  room." 

Tony  was  silent,  and  when  Miss  Ellen  brought  him  his 
second  white  rose,  he  answered  her  mutely. 

"Bring  the  baby  to-morrow,  dear,  and  be  sure  you  tell 
me  what  you  did  with  this  rose.  Maggie  told  me  of  the 
other  one."  She  stooped  and  kissed  his  grave  lips.  Tony 
flushed  under  the  scarcely  accustomed  caress,  and,  carry 
ing  his  rose,  Started  for  the  door  where  he  met  Maggie. 
She  begged  for  a  whiff  of  the  rose. 

"  De  Kid 's  with  Murphy,"  she  called  after  him. 

It  was  late  that  afternoon  when  Tony  went  into  Mrs. 
Murphy's  apartments  for  the  baby.  Mrs.  Murphy  met  him 
at  the  door,  shaking  a  very  dusty  rug  and  a  stray  offspring. 

"Aye,  noo.  Ketch  me  a-hevin'  a  divil  ev  er  kid  bringing 
in  durrt  in  here,  yer  bet ! "  she  yelled  in  her  Celtic- Ameri 
can  accent. 

Tony  grinned  as  he  surveyed  the  wet  interior,  for  the 
good  woman  in  her  zeal  had  not  left  a  table  or  chair  un 
turned.  The  air  reeked  soap.  The  walls  were  a  study  in 
pastels  of  dripping,  dirty  gray.  The  frightened  children 

[54] 


A  BROTHER 

looked  on  from  their  observation  point,  the  fire-escape. 
Never  had  their  vigorous  parent  been  taken  with  such  a 
cleanly  fever  as  this. 

Mrs.  Murphy  inspected  Tony's  bare  feet.  "An*  'tis  not 
a  speck  of  durrt  as  comes  inter  dis.  An'  ef  yez  ain't  clean 
in  yer  feet,  yez  can't  be  after  a-comin'.  Aye,  an*  't  is  a 
drubbin'  Pat  Murphy '11  be  after  a-gittin*  ef  a  sphot  he 
clutters  in." 

"It's  er  good  way  to  let  Pat  see  dat  yer  love  him, 
Murphy.  A  clean  room  does  it.  It  helps,  yer  bet." 

Mrs.  Murphy  threw  up  her  red,  wet  hands.  "Love  and 
Pat  Murphy!  Niver!"  She  waved  her  hand  melodra 
matically. 

"I  tells  yer,"  the  boy  encouraged  as  he  received  his 
sleeping  charge  and  cuddled  her  to  him,  "Jes  yer  git  er 
t'inkin'  dat  yer  love  him.  Gee !  Ef  I  wuz  tied  up  ter  a 
t'ing  wot  I  could  n't  git  loose  of,  I'd  try  er  t'inkin'  dat  way — 
mebbe  it  would  make  him  decent  like." 

Mrs.  Murphy  snorted.  Just  then  Maggie  ran  toward 
them. 

"Oh,  Tony,  wait!  Did  yer  tell  Murphy  wot  yer  done 
with  yer  rose?" 

Tony,  scarlet,  shook  his  head.  "An'  yer  need  n't,  Maggie." 

"  I  jes  will,  too.  Say,  Murphy,  Tony  give  Mike  Casey  de 
rose  Miss  Ellen  give  him.  An'  he  had  a  note  in  it,  too, 
an'  Mike  Casey  he  read  the  note  'loud,  an'  every  man  left 

[55] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

the  s'loon,  an*  Mike  Casey  he  locked  the  door  an'  went  ter 
see  Father  Brennan.  Dennis  McGuire  told  me;  he  wuz 
there  an*  he  heard  the  note,  an'" — here  Maggie  paused  in 
her  breathless  jumble  for  a  momentary  rest.  Tony  hung 
back,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  Irishwoman.  He  wondered 
if  she  would  approve  or — 

"An*  wot  did  yer  write  on  de  paper?"  Mrs.  Murphy 
eyed  the  boy  fiercely. 

"He  wrote  his  verse,  'God  is  love/  Dat's  wot  he  wrote." 
And  Maggie  glanced  at  Tony,  who  muttered, "  Aw,  cheese 
it.  Yer  sed  'nough."  "  An',"  she  went  on,  not  heeding,  "  he 
telled  Mike  Casey  dat  he  wuz  a  brother  and  dat  he — " 

"Aw,  de  divil  fly  wid  yer  fer  a  fool,  Tony,  a — "  but  the 
word  did  not  come.  Mrs.  Murphy  had  ceased  swearing  at 
Tony  or  in  his  presence  for  several  days,  though  she  could 
not  explain  the  reason  for  having  done  so. 

"I  knows  why  yer  done  it,  Tony,  I  know."  Maggie's 
eyes  were  joyful.  "  Miss  Ellen  she  is  tellin*  me  of  Him,  too." 

"Aye,  an*  'tis  a  pair  of  fools  ye  be.  Git,  yez  hev  kep' 
me  long  'nough  from  me  worruk.  An'  't  is  a  good  jail  wot 
Mike  Casey  needs,  wid  Pat  Murphy  an'  yer  ma  ter  keep 
him  comp'ny.  Roses  fer  the  loikes  of  him.  Pooh ! "  With 
a  grand  sweep  of  her  scant  skirts  and  an  air  of  hauteur 
borrowed  from  the  heroine  of  her  latest  novel,  Mrs.  Murphy 
retreated  to  her  dripping  but  cleanly  abode  and  slammed 
the  door 

[56] 


CHAPTER  VII 

MR.  DORKING'S  MESSAGE 

THE  next  day  Tony  reluctantly  told  Miss  Ellen 
of  the  mission  of  the  white  rose.   He  wondered 
not  a  little  at  her  sudden  rocking  of  the  baby 
and  her  walking  to  the  desk,  where  she  stood 
for  some  time.    He  wondered  still  more  at  the 
verse  she  repeated  softly  to  herself,  "And  a  little  child — " 
Tony  did  not  catch  the  rest. 

When  she  came  back  to  him  she  kissed  him  again  and 
again,  much  to  his  discomfiture. 

"Dear  little  boy!  I  am  so  proud  of  my  brother." 
"Gee!  Ain't  done  nothin',"  he  remarked  happily,  though 
somewhat  bewildered. 

"How  about  the  white  room  now,  Tony?"  she  asked, 
tremulously  smiling. 

The  boy  clasped  the  wee  white  fingers  of  the  babe  in 
his  brown  hands. 

"Dunno,  but  I  t'ink  de  fenc'll  bust  some  day,  mebbe. 

[57] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

Talked  ter  de  kids  some.  Say,  Miss  Ellen,  ain't  it  great  de 
warm  feelin'  yer  hez  wen  yer  do  somepin  like  wot  He 
done ! " 

"Hello,  Ellen!  Well,  well!  Tony  and  the  Li'les'  Kid! 
How  do  you  do,  sir?" 

Tony  turned  to  look  up  at  a  tall,  young  man  who  had 
slipped  in  upon  them  unawares. 

Over  his  face,  as  he  looked  down  at  the  girl  with  the 
babe  in  her  arms,  crept  an  expression  of  reverence,  which 
caused  Tony  unconsciously  to  glance  toward  the  angels' 
faces  about  the  Madonna  in  the  portrait  hanging  on  the  wall. 

"Well,  Tony — "  Mr.  Dorring  held  out  his  hand.  Tony 
gave  him  his  own  slender  one,  wondering  at  the  firm  clasp. 
An  expression  of  admiration  crept  into  his  face  in  spite  of 
his  momentary  doubts  as  to  the  rights  of  this  imperturbable 
stranger  who  claimed  his  beloved  teacher  so  possessively. 

"  I  have  heard  of  your  fine  work,  Tony.  You  are  a  brick ! " 

Tony  grinned  as  he  glanced  up  at  the  girl.  "  Aw,  it 's 
her.  I  ain't  done  nothin*.  It's  jes  Miss  Ellen." 

"I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  it  is  Miss  Ellen. 
She  works  wonders  everywhere.  But  you — why,  you  are 
going  to  remake  the  tenement,  I  hear, —  run  a  sort  of  op 
position  to  our  settlement  work." 

Tony's  eyes  rented  upon  the  babe.  "  Nope,"  he  answered 
slowly.  "  I  wants  ter  git  out'n  de  tenerment  an'  give  her  a 
chanst.  She's  goin'  ter  grow  up  an'  be  like  Miss  Ellen." 

[58] 


The  teacher's  face  was  wet  with  tears  as  she  placed 
the  baby  in  Tony's  arms. 


MR.  DORKING'S  MESSAGE 

"Very  good.  But  let  me  see — you  have  brothers  and  — 
a  mother?" 

Tony  sharply  looked  up  at  him,  but  seeing  only  grave 
and  kindly  interest  in  Mr.  Dorring's  eyes,  he  shook  his 
head  as  he  turned  queSlioningly  to  Miss  Ellen. 

"  Well,  my  boy,  we  can't  all  do  what  we  should  like  to. 
You  have  your  mother  and  the  boys  to  look  after.  The 
Li'les*  Kid  here  can't  have  any  schooling  for  several  years. 
You  are  such  a  man  that  you  would  n't  think  of  leaving  a 
woman  alone  in  the  world." 

Mr.  Dorring  lowered  his  voice,  and  his  expression  be 
came  as  gentle  as  that  of  the  girl  beside  him,  as  he  added 
earnestly: 

"  Whatever  she  is,  or  has  been,  she  is  a  woman,  and 
your  mother.  Some  day  a  danger  may  come  to  her ;  then 
you  will  realize  what  a  mother  means.  Take  care  of  her, 
Tony,  and  of  the  kids.  Is  n't  that  about  it,  Ellen  ?  " 

The  teacher's  face  was  wet  with  tears  as  she  placed  the 
baby  in  Tony's  arms.  Holding  him  closely  to  her,  she 
whispered : 

"My  little  brother!   God  bless  you — good-by." 

The  merry-eyed  gentleman  escorted  him  to  the  door, 
which  he  held  wide  open. 

"  Good-by,  my  boy,"  he  said  heartily ;  "  it's  a  tough  world, 
but  love  wins  out  in  the  long  run."  He  looked  back  at  the 
girl  Standing  just  behind  him. 

[59] 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  FIRE 

"Rock-a-bye,Baby, 
On  the  tree-top. 
When  the  wind  blows 
The  cradle  will  rock.*' 

THE  low  voice  sang  on  in  spite  of  the  weariness 
in  the  tones.    On  the  bed  a  woman  turned 
heavily,  raising  herself  on  her  elbow  to  glare  in 
agony  of  spirit  at  the  singer,  then  threw  herself 
back  against  the  wall  in  feverish  abandon. 
For  three  days  she  had  lain  there,  fever-stricken  and, 
what  was  more,  conscience-Stricken  —  probed  to  the  quick 
by  the  ruthless  hand  of  her  past. 

Gently,  but  in  silence,  Tony  waited  upon  her.    In  his 
reserve,  his  unvoiced  aversion,  she  felt  the  Sting  of  rebuke. 
The  three  days  had  been  full  of  mental  awakening. 
The  song — where  had  he  learned  it? 
Very  dimly  at  first,  then  more  Strongly  and  clearly,  came 

[60] 


THE  FIRE 

the  memories  of  her  childhood,  girlhood,  and  the  sweet 
bliss  of  first  motherhood.  Under  the  rose  arbor  in  her 
country  home  she  sang  the  same  song  to  her  doll;  later 
to  her  first-born — Tony. 

"  Oh,  rock-a-bye,  hush-a-bye, 
Brother  is  near** — 

Tony  had  paraphrased  to  suit  the  situation.  The  woman 
groaned ;  the  tears  trickled  through  her  fingers. 

She  dragged  herself  despairingly  through  the  mire  of 
years  that  followed. 

On  the  mattress  lay  the  little  boys.  The  fever  had  taken 
hold  of  their  ill-nourished  little  bodies,  and  they  tossed  to 
and  fro. 

Tony  rose,  the  baby  in  his  arms,  covered  them  with  the 
dirty  blanket  and  soothed  them  softly  until  they  slept  once 
more. 

"Poor  li'le  kids,  dey's  nothin'  but  babies!" 

At  the  side  of  the  bed  he  paused.  The  sleeper  was 
breathing  heavily.  Then  turning,  Tony  softly  opened  the 
door  and,  gently  carrying  his  precious  burden,  hurried  to 
the  security  and  shelter  of  the  ash-barrel. 

Raising  the  baby's  face  to  his,  he  kissed  her  blue  lips. 

"  Say,  does  yer  know  yer  got  a  name,  U'les'  Kid  ?  Ellen 's 
wot  yer  go  by  now.  After  Miss  Ellen.  Ain't  yer  de  swell, 
do?  Gee!  It's  up  ter  youse  ter  git  on  ter  her  game  of 
livin',  Li'les'  Kid.  Youse  kin  grow  like  her  an*  hev  a  li'le 

[61] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

white  room  wot  ain  't  never  even  hed  a  curtain,  it 's  so  full 
o'  sun.  You  betcherlife,  li'le  Ellen !  "  He  smiled  quaintly 
to  himself.  "Aw,  ain't  it  de  talk,  de  white  rose !  An*  jes 
ter  t'ink  how  full  everything  is  sence  we  knowed  it.  Ain't 
sure  but  dat  de  fence  has  busted  some.  Mebbe  —  He'll 
sort  o'  ketch  onter  us,  me  an*  you,  wot  is  tryin'  ter  reach  up 
ter  Him.  Yer  is.  Mebbe  Tony '11  git  dere  soon  as  his  white 
room  is  —  gee !  Dere's  smoke  over  in  de  tenerment.  Li'les' 
Kid,  looks  ter  me  ter  be  on  our  side,  too."  He  rose  quickly, 
and,  stepping  out,  saw  a  thin  blue  line  writhing  snake-like 
through  the  walls  above  the  room  where  lay  his  sick  little 
brothers  and  —  mother. 

Instantly  an  alarm  was  sent  out.  From  afar  he  heard 
the  clang  of  the  fire-engine.  A  moment  later  it  dashed  by 
him  into  the  court  beyond. 

Tony  stood  still,  rooted  to  the  spot,  his  eyes  riveted  upon 
the  window  of  his  room.  He  held  the  babe  tightly  to  his 
heart. 

"Aw, —  dey  ain't — nothin' — ter  me,"  he  muttered  dog 
gedly  as  he  stared  at  the  smoke  that  curled  in  and  out  of 
the  windows.  A  hissing  sound,  and  a  flame  leaped  up 
ward,  downward,  lapping  fiendishly  at  the  room  below. 

Still  the  boy  stood,  not  heeding  the  people  who  were 
thronging  through  the  alleyway  to  the  court.  He  could 
hear  the  screams  of  women  and  children. 

"Dey  is  sick,  an' de  kids  is  li'le  an'  dey's — my  brothers — " 

[62] 


Gently  he  dropped  the  baby  into  the  barrel  and  was  gone. 


THE  FIRE 

"She  is  your  mother.  Some  day  a  danger  may  come 
to  her,  then  you  will  realize  what  a  mother  is."  The  words 
came  back  as  distinctly  as  if  they  had  just  been  uttered  in 
his  ears.  His  head  whirled ;  a  thousand  emotions  shook  him. 

"She  is  sick,  Li'les'  Kid  —  oh,  I  mus'  go.  She  is  sick,  an' 
she's  your  mother,  an'  oh,  baby,  she 's  my  mother !  O  God ! " 

"Say,  Li'les'  Kid,  my  baby  Ellen,  slay  here  in  de  barr'l 
till  Tony  gits  back;  don*  cry.  De  fire's  burnin',  and  dey  is 
in  it,  an'  Tony  mus'  go."  Gently  he  dropped  the  baby  into 
the  barrel  and  was  gone. 

"My  mother!"  With  this  battle-cry,  he  pushed  his  way 
through  the  crowd.  He  Stumbled  over  a  confusion  of  dogs 
and  children ;  fell  over  the  hose ;  he  dashed  this  way  and 
that,  until  he  reached  the  wet  pavement. 

"Hold  on  there!"  yelled  a  policeman,  as  the  boy  scram 
bled  to  his  feet.  A  cinder  fell  on  his  hand;  he  did  not 
heed  the  burn. 

A  fireman  grabbed  him  by  the  arm.  He  evaded  the 
outstretched  hand,  and  before  the  eyes  of  all  vanished 
through  the  doorway. 

"It's  Tony!"  wailed  a  girl's  voice,  and  the  crowd  took 
up  the  cry,  "Tony!"  Then  a  hush  fell  upon  them  as  they 
anxiously  waited. 

Far  up  on  the  first  landing  they  saw  him,  through  the 
smoke  and  flames,  a  child  in  each  arm.  Cheer  after  cheer 
went  up,  to  die  away  as  he  disappeared  once  more. 

[63] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

The  fireman,  who  had  taken  the  little  boys  from  Tony, 
descended  the  ladder,  his  burdens  lying  limply  in  his 
strong  arms.  His  coat  was  burned,  the  clothes  of  the  chil 
dren  were  smoking. 

"Get  the  boy  and  the  mother!"  he  cried. 

Two  firemen  sprang  forward,  one  up  the  swaying  ladder, 
while  the  other  fought  his  way  through  the  entrance. 

In  the  meanwhile  Tony  had  reached  the  room.  His 
mother,  in  her  endeavors  to  save  herself,  had  fainted,  the 
last  words  of  Tony  ringing  in  her  ears : 

"I'll  come  back  an*  git  yer,  mother."  Mother!  He  had 
never  called  her  that  before. 

From  every  corner  the  hungry  flames  ran  out  their  fiery 
tongues  as  the  boy  Staggered  out  into  the  hall,  half  drag 
ging,  half  carrying  the  heavy  form. 

"Mother,  mother,"  he  pleaded  fearfully,  "it's  yer  Tony, 
mother — " 

He  fell,  blinded  with  the  smoke  and  a  sudden  pain  in 
his  arm.  Once  he  Stopped,  crushing  the  fire  from  his 
smoking  jacket,  then  hurried  on.  His  strength  was  almost 
gone  as  he  floundered  down  the  tottering  stairway,  into  a 
sea  of  smoke  and  fire.  But  even  in  the  horror  the  moment 
brought,  he  felt  the  uplift  of  his  soul.  His  white  room  had 
"busted  open." 

"Say,  God,  up  dere  in  yer  white  house,  give  a  li'le  feller 
a  lift,  will  yer?  It's  Tony — "  He  stumbled  once  more  as 

[64] 


THE  FIRE 

with  a  superhuman  effort  he  gathered  his  mother  more 
tightly  to  him. 

"  I  knows  I  ain't  good,  God,  an*  I  hed  ter  swipe  de  bread 
'cause  we — wuz  hungry.  Say,  me  white  room  hez  busted — 
is  full — won't  yer — help — me — God?" 

The  burden  almost  fell  from  his  weak  arms,  still  the 
child  struggled  on. 

"It's  my  mother,  wot's  sick — ** 

The  floor  seemed  to  sink  beneath  him. 

"O  God, — she  ain't  hed  no  chanst,  does  yer  hear  —  it's 
Tony — an' —  his — mother — God-o*~love — sen* — " 


[65] 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  FULL  WHITE  ROOM 

IT  WAS  late  that  afternoon  when  Tony  opened  his 
eyes.  He  looked  about  him  dazedly.  A  white  room, 
pretty  pink  and  blue  roses  on  the  wall,  dainty  white 
curtains,  shiny  silver  things  on  a  queer-looking  table, 
over  which  hung  a  glass.  He  opened  his  eyes  very 
wide,  indeed. 

"Gee!  Ef  I  ain't  in  His  house!"  he  said  aloud. 
Instantly  a  pair  of  brown  eyes  looked  into  his  blue  ones. 
Tony  smiled  feebly.    Miss  Ellen  almost  sobbed  in  her 
joy. 

"Oh,  Tony,  little  brother,  I  am  so  glad,  so  glad  —  I  was 
so  afraid."  She  seemed  to  be  talking  to  herself,  Tony 
thought,  as  he  clung  to  her  hands.  He  was  puzzled  at  the 
queer  sensations  that  were  making  themselves  manifest 
in  his  body.  His  bandaged  head — where  was  his  other 
arm?  He  looked  up  at  the  girl  above  him. 

"  Wot's  de  matter  wid  me?   An'  why  are  you  cryin'?" 

[66] 


THE  FULL  WHITE  ROOM 

"  Dear  Tony,  Miss  Ellen  is  so  happy.  She  was  so  afraid 
that  you  were  going  from  her.*' 

"To  His  house?" 

She  nodded. 

"Well,  I  dunno;  I'd  like  ter  go  dere.  I've  been  all  tired 
out,  an'  ef  I  would  n't  git  lonely,  I  'd  jes  's  lief  go."  His  voice 
trailed  off  to  a  whisper.  The  girl  watched  him  silently. 
Suddenly  he  looked  up,  a  half-frightened  expression  on 
his  face. 

"  De  fire — I  'member  now.  Gee ! " 

He  seized  her  arm — "Where's  de  Li'les'  Kid?" 

"There,  dear,  she  is  all  right — there.  She  is  in  the  next 
room.  I  found  her  in  the  ash-barrel  and  carried  her  away 


with  me." 


The  door  softly  opened  and  the  cheery  man  with  the 
big  voice  peered  at  him. 

"Ho,  ho,  my  young  man!  Awake?  Well,  you  have  cer 
tainly  covered  yourself  with  glory  and  bandages.  Tony,  I 
am  proud  of  you." 

The  child  looked  up  at  Miss  Ellen,  a  smile  lighting  his 
white  face. 

"Miss  Ellen,  it's  bunted  open,  wide  open,  de  white 
room;  an' — me  mother  come  right  in." 

Miss  Ellen  bowed  her  head.  Mr.  Dorring  turned  away. 
Silence  fell  upon  the  trio.  Tony  quietly  asked,  "Where  is 
she,  my  mother,  an'  de  li'le  boys?" 

[67] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

"  They  are  here." 

"In  dis  house?" 

"Yes,  dear."  Miss  Ellen  lovingly  patted  his  free  hand. 

"  Gee !  Yer  house  mus'  be  ez  big  ez  yer  heart,  Miss  Ellen/* 

"  You  bet ! "  The  man's  voice  forcibly  conveyed  his  sen 
timents.  "And  there's  room  for  me  there,  too.  What  do 
you  think  of  that?" 

Tony  smiled  shrewdly. 

"Aw,  yer  her  feller." 

They  laughed.  Miss  Ellen  Stooped  over  and  kissed  him. 
Mr.  Dorring  rose. 

"Well,  don't  let  him  talk  too  much,  Ellen.  Til  be  back 
in  a  few  minutes." 

" Miss  Ellen?" 

"Yes,  my  boy." 

"I  ain't  seen  de  Li'les'  Kid  fer  so — long.  Kin  I  hev 
her?"  There  was  no  resisting  the  pleading  tones.  A  mo 
ment  later  the  wee  sleeper's  head  rented  in  its  accustomed 
place.  Tony  beamed  happily. 

"  She 's  got  er  name  now.  She 's  Ellen, —  does  yer  care  ?  " 

"No,  indeed.   I  am  proud,  little  brother." 

He  smiled  joyously.  How  beautiful  was  the  world  of 
love! 

"  I  guess  I  don't  want  ter  go  ter  His  house  yet.  I  wants 
ter  take  care  of  de  boys,  de  Li'les'  Kid — an'  me  mother." 
He  lovingly  caressed  the  word. 

[68] 


In  her  outstretched  hand  she  held—  a  white  rose. 


THE  FULL  WHITE  ROOM 

Miss  Ellen  leaned  over  him.  "  Tony,  how  would  you 
and  little  Ellen  like  to  live  with  me —  Mr.  Dorring  and  me, — 
always,  and  be  our  little  brother  and  sister?" 

"  Ter  be  yer  own  fer  keeps?"  he  questioned  wonderingly. 

"Yes,  for  keeps." 

He  looked  down  at  the  little  head  and  sighed. 

"  It  'ud  be  jes  de  t'ing  fer  her,  but  dere  's  me  mother  an* 
de  kids.  Nope.  I  can't  let  'em  go,  now."  He  turned  his 
head  away. 

"Dear  little  boy!  Miss  Ellen  did  not  mean  that.  Being 
my  boy  and  living  with  me  doesn't  mean  that  your  duty  to 
your  mother  is  lost.  No,  indeed,  but  we  won't  talk  of  it 
just  yet.  You  are  going  to  get  well  first.  Here  is  Mr.  Dor- 
ring.  Stephen,  I  have  told  him.  Will  you  explain  all  we 
mean  to  do?" 

"All  right,  dear.  You  must  go  down-stairs,  for  some 
friends  of  Tony's  are  here  asking  for  you." 

He  escorted  the  young  teacher  to  the  door,  where  he  drew 
her  to  him.  When  he  turned,  he  met  Tony's  Steady  gaze. 

"You  don't  think  you  are  the  only  one  who  has  a  white 
rose,  do  you  ?  " 

Tony  reached  out  his  one  hand  underSlandingly. 

Down-Stairs,  Miss  Ellen  faced  a  Strange  assortment  of 
visitors — Tony's  friends  from  the  tenement. 

There  was  Mrs.  Murphy,  with  an  alarming  bit  of  millinery 
upon  her  head ;  Granny  Flaherty,  with  a  burnt  shawl  over 

[69] 


TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM 

her  gray  hair;  Mrs.  Mulligan,  and  blind  Peter  Dolan;  a  fat 
man,  and  a  dozen  others  whom  Miss  Ellen  did  not  recognize. 

Maggie  sprang  forward  and  clutched  the  teacher's  arm. 
From  her  wild  eyes  looked  the  question  which  no  one 
dared  to  voice. 

"  Tony  will  live,"  Miss  Ellen  said  simply. 

"Is  the — blessed — darlint — h-hurt?"  whispered  Mrs. 
Murphy. 

"Yes,  but  there  is  nothing  to  worry  about.  He  will  live 
to  finish  the  work  that  has  been  given  him  to  do." 

She  talked  to  them  for  several  moments, — a  cheering 
word  here,  a  loving  smile  there,  till  the  anxious  people  be 
came  comforted. 

As  they  filed  out  of  the  room,  the  fat  man  slipped  a 
parcel  tied  up  in  florist's  tissue-paper  into  Miss  Ellen's 
hand.  "Ast  Maggie,"  he  said  in  a  husky  whisper.  Miss 
Ellen  looked  puzzled. 

"It's  Mike  Casey,"  explained  Maggie.  He's  found  out 
'bout  his  white  room — yer  know." 

Miss  Ellen  opened  the  package ;  tears  Started  to  her  eyes. 

"Maggie, — you  thank  them — for  Tony  and  me." 

Upstairs  in  his  white  bed  Tony  waited,  the  baby  still  in 
his  arms.  His  eyes  shone  with  a  far-away  glow ;  his  heart 
was  full  of  light. 

The  door  opened — Miss  Ellen  came  into  the  room.  In 
her  outstretched  hand  she  held — a  white  rose. 

[70] 


HERE  ENDS  "TONY'S  WHITE  ROOM"  HOW 
THE  WHITE  ROSE  OF  LOVE  BLOOMED  6- 
FLOURISHED  IN  THE  ROOM  OF  A  BOY'S 
HEART -WRITTEN  OF  BY  WINIFRED  RICH 
ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  ELIZABETH  FERREA 
PUBLISHED  BY  PAUL  ELDER  &  COMPANY 
AND  PRINTED  BY  THEIR  TOMOYE  PRESS 
UNDER  THE  DIRECTION  OF  JOHN  HENRY 
NASH  •  IN  THE  CITY  OF  SAN  FRANCISCO 
JULY  •  NINETEEN  HUNDRED  AND  ELEVEN 


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